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GEORGE    ELIOT'S    LIFE. 

VOL.   I. 


r^EORGE      ELIOT      AT       THE      AGE       OF 
^     THIRTY.      Photogravure.      From   painting  by 

M.  D'A  Ibert  -  Durade. 


The  Complete  Works 

of 

George  Eliot 


GEORGE  ELIOT'S   LIFE 

AS    RELATED    IN 

HER   LETTERS   AND    JOURNALS 

ARRANGED    AND    EDITED    BY    HER    HUSBAND 
J.     W.     CROSS 

VOLUME    I 

ILLUSTRATED 


NEW   YORK   AND    LONDON 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS 

PUBLISHERS 


MA 


*»!»» 


PEEFACE   TO   THE  FIEST  EDITIOi^. 


With  the  materials  in  my  hands  I  have  endeav- 
oured to  form  an  autobiography  (if  the  term  may 
be  permitted)  of  George  Eliot.  The  life  has  been 
allowed  to  write  itself  in  extracts  from  her  letters 
and  journals.  Free  from  the  obtrusion  of  any 
mind  but  her  own,  this  method  serves,  I  think, 
better  than  any  other  open  to  me,  to  show  the 
development  of  her  intellect  and  character. 

In  dealing  with  the  correspondence,  I  have  been 
influenced  by  the  desire  to  make  known  the 
woman,  as  well  as  the  author,  through  the  presen- 
tation of  her  daily  life. 

On  the  intellectual  side  there  remains  little  to 
be  learnt  by  those  who  already  know  George 
Eliot's  books.  In  the  twenty  volumes  which  she 
wrote  and  published  in  her  lifetime,  will  be  found 
her  best  and  ripest  thoughts.  The  letters  now 
published  throw  light  on  another  side  of  her 
nature,  —  not  less  important,  but  hitherto  un- 
known to  the  public,  —  the  side  of  the  affections. 

The  intimate  life  was  the  core  of  the  root  from 
which  sprung  the  fairest  flowers  of  her  inspiration. 
Fame  came  to  her  late  in  life,  and,  when  it  pre- 
sented itself,  was  so  weighted  with  the  sense  of 
responsibility  that  it  was  in  truth  a   rose    with 


vi  Preface. 

many  thorns,  for  George  Eliot  had  the  tempera- 
ment that  shrinks  from  the  position  of  a  public 
character.  The  belief  in  the  wide,  and  I  may  add 
in  the  beneficent,  effect  of  her  writing  was  no 
doubt  the  highest  happiness,  the  reward  of  the 
artist  which  she  greatly  cherished;  but  the  joys 
of  the  hearth-side,  the  delight  in  the  love  of  her 
friends,  were  the  supreme  pleasures  in  her  life. 

By  arranging  all  the  letters  and  journals  so  as 
to  form  one  connected  whole,  keeping  the  order  of 
their  dates,  and  with  the  least  possible  interrup- 
tion of  comment,  I  have  endeavoured  to  combine  a 
narrative  of  day-to-day  life  with  the  play  of  light 
and  shade  which  only  letters,  written  in  various 
moods,  can  give,  and  without  which  no  portrait 
can  be  a  good  likeness.  I  do  not  know  that  the 
particular  method  in  which  I  have  treated  the 
letters  has  ever  been  adopted  before.  Each  letter 
has  been  pruned  of  everything  that  seemed  to  me 
irrelevant  to  my  purpose,  —  of  everything  that  I 
thought  my  wife  would  have  wished  to  be  omitted. 
Every  sentence  that  remains,  adds,  in  my  judg- 
ment, something  (however  small  it  may  be)  to  the 
means  of  forming  a  conclusion  about  her  character. 
I  ought  perhaps  to  say  a  word  of  apology  for  what 
may  appear  to  be  undue  detail  of  travelling  experi- 
ences ;  but  I  hope  that  to  many  readers  these  will 
be  interesting,  as  reflected  through  George  Eliot's 
mind.  The  remarks  on  works  of  art  are  only 
meant  to  be  records  of  impressions.  She  would 
have  deprecated  for  herself  the  attitude  of  an  art 
critic. 


Preface.  vii 

Excepting  a  slight  introductory  sketch  of  the 
girlhood,  iip  to  the  time  when  letters  became 
available,  and  a  few  words  here  and  there  to  eluci- 
date the  correspondence,  I  have  confined  myself 
to  the  work  of  selection  and  arrangement. 

I  have  refrained  almost  entirely  from  quoting 
remembered  sayings  by  George  Eliot,  because  it  is 
difficult  to  be  certain  of  complete  accuracy,  and 
everything  depends  upon  accuracy.  Eecollections 
of  conversation  are  seldom  to  be  implicitly  trusted 
in  the  absence  of  notes  made  at  the  time.  The 
value  of  spoken  words  depends,  too,  so  much  upon 
the  tone,  and  on  the  circumstances  which  gave  rise 
to  their  utterance,  that  they  often  mislead  as  much 
as  they  enlighten,  when,  in  the  process  of  repeti- 
tion, they  have  taken  colour  from  another  mind. 
"  All  interpretations  depend  upon  the  interpreter," 
and  I  have  judged  it  best  to  let  George  Eliot  be 
her  own  interpreter,  as  far  as  possible. 

I  owe  thanks  ta  Mr.  Isaac  Evans,  the  brother  of 
my  wife,  for  much  of  the  information  in  regard  to 
her  child-life  ;  and  the  whole  book  is  a  long  record 
of  debts  due  to  other  friends  for  letters.  It  is  not 
therefore  necessary  for  me  to  recapitulate  the  list 
of  names  in  this  place.  My  thauks  to  all  are 
heartfelt.  But  there  is  a  very  special  acknowledg- 
ment due  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell,  to  Mrs.  Bray,  and 
to  the  late  Mr.  Charles  Bray  of  Coventry,  not  only 
for  the  letters  which  they  placed  at  my  disposal, 
but  also  for  much  information  given  to  me  in  the 
most  friendly  spirit.  The  very  important  part  of 
the  life  from  1842  to  1854  could  not  possibly  have 
t  ten  written  without  their  contribution. 


viii  Preface. 

To  Mr.  Charles  Lewes,  also,  I  am  indebted  for 
permission  to  make  use  of  some  valuable  letters 
written  by  his  father,  besides  the  letters  addressed 
to  himself.  He  also  obtained  for  me  an  impor- 
tant letter  written  by  George  Eliot  to  Mr.  E.  H. 
Hutton;  and  throughout  the  preparation  of  the 
book  I  have  had  the  advantage  of  his  sympathetic 
interest,  and  his  concurrence  in  the  publication  of 
all   the  materials. 

Special  thanks  are  likewise  due  to  Messrs.  Wm. 
Blackwood  &  Sons  for  having  placed  at  my  dis- 
posal George  Eliot's  long  correspondence  with  the 
firm.  The  letters  (especially  those  addressed  to 
her  friend  the  late  Mr.  John  Blackwood)  throw  a 
light,  that  could  not  otherwise  have  been  obtained, 
on  the  most  interesting  part  of  her  literary  career. 

To  the  legal  representatives  of  the  late  Charles 
Dickens,  of  the  late  Lord  Lytton,  and  of  Mrs. 
Carlyle;  to  Mr.  J.  A.  Froude,  and  to  the  Eev. 
Archer  Gurney,  —  I  owe  thanks  for  leave  to  print 
letters  written  by  them. 

For  all  the  defects  that  there  may  be  in  the 
plan  of  these  volumes,  I  alone  am  responsible. 
The  lines  were  determined,  and  the  work  was  sub- 
stantially put  into  shape,  before  I  submitted  the 
manuscript  to  any  one.  Whilst  passing  the 
winter  in  the  south  of  France,  I  had  the  good 
fortune  at  Cannes  to  find  in  Lord  Acton  a  friend 
always  most  kindly  ready  to  assist  me  with  valu- 
able counsel  and  with  cordial  generous  sympathy. 
He  was  the  first  reader  of  the  manuscript,  and 
whatever  accuracy  may  have  been  arrived   at   in 


Preface.  ix 

the  names  of  foreign  books,  foreign  persons,  and 
foreign  places,  is  in  great  part  due  to  his  friendly, 
careful  help. 

As  regards  the  illustrations,  I  owe  thanks  to  Sir 
Frederic  Burton  for  permitting  me  to  reproduce  as 
a  frontispiece  M.  Eajon's  etching  of  the  beautiful 
drawing,  executed  in  1864,  now  in  the  National 
Portrait  Gallery,   South  Kensington. 

The  Geneva  portrait  was  taken  in  the  early  part 
of  1850,  by  George  Eliot's  old  friend  M.  D 'Albert. 
He  was  good  enough  to  allow  me  to  become  the 
possessor  of  it  in  1881. 

The  view  of  the  old  house  at  Rosehill  is  from  a 
drawing  by  Miss  Sara  Hennell.  It  is  connected 
with  some  of  George  Eliot's  happiest  experiences, 
and  with  the  period  of  her  most  rapid  intellectual 
development. 

For  permission  to  use  the  sketch  of  the  drawing- 
room  at  The  Priory,  I  am  indebted  to  Messrs. 
Harpers  of  New  York. 

The  size  of  the  volumes  has  been  determined  by 
the  desire  to  make  this  book  uniform  in  appearance 
with  the  original  editions  of  George  Eliot's  Works. 

In  conclusion,  it  is  in  no  conventional  spirit, 
but  from  my  heart,  that  I  bespeak  the  indulgence 
of  readers  for  my  share  of  this  work.  Of  its 
shortcomings  no  one  can  be  so  convinced  as  I  am 
myself. 

J.  W.  C. 

Campden  Hill,  December,  1884. 


». 


CONTENTS   OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


PAGE 

Introductorv  Sketch  of  Childhood,  1819  to  1838    ,     .     .         1 


CHAPTER     I. 

AUGUST,  1838,  TO  MARCH,  1841. 

LifeatGrLff .     ,     .     .       29 

CHAPTER     II. 

MARCH,  1841,  TO  APRIL,  1846. 

Coventry  —  Translation  of  Strauss 63 

CHAPTER     III. 

MAT,  1846,  TO  MAT,  1849. 

Life  in  Coventry  till  Mr.  Evans's  Death 110 

CHAPTER    IV. 

JUNE,  1849,  TO  MARCH,  1850. 

Geneva    . ,     .     156 

CHAPTER'    V. 

MARCH,  1850,  TO  JUT.T,  1854. 

Work  in  London  —  Union  with  Mr.  Lewes     .     .     ,     .     189 


xii  Contents, 

CHAPTER    YL 

JITLY,  1854,  TO  MAKCH,  1855. 

FA6B 

Weimar  and  Berlin 251 

CHAPTER    YIL 

MARCH,  1855,  TO  DECEMBER,  1867. 

Richmond  —  "  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  "  .  287 

Appexbix 367 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Vol.  I. 
George  Eliot  at  the  age  of  Thirty     ....   Frontispiece 

FoLESHiLL P<-'ge  62 

ROSEHILL 222 

A  Morning  with  Liszt       260 


GEORGE    ELIOT'S   LIFE. 


INTRODUCTORY  SKETCH  OF  CHILDHOOD. 

"  Nov.   22,  1819.  —  Mary  Ann  Evans  was  born  at 
Arbury  Farm,^  at  five  o'clock  this  morning.  " 

This  is  an  entry  in  Mr.  Robert  Evans's  hand- 
writing on  the  page  of  an  old  diary  that  now  lies 
before  me,  and  records,  with  characteristic  pre- 
cision, the  birth  of  his  youngest  child,  afterwards 
known  to  the  world  as  George  Eliot.  Let  us  pause 
for  a  moment  to  pay  its  due  homage  to  the  pre- 
cision, because  it  was  in  all  probability  to  this 
most  noteworthy  quality  of  her  father's  nature 
that  the  future  author  was  indebted  for  one  of  the 
principal  elements  of  her  own  after  success,  —  the 
enormous  faculty  for  taking  pains.  The  baby  was 
born  on  St.  Cecilia's  day,  and  Mr.  Evans,  being  a 
good  Churchman,  takes  her,  on  the  29th  November, 
to  be  baptised  in  the  church  at  Chilvers  Coton,  — 
the  parish  in  which  Arbury  Farm  lies,  —  a  church 
destined  to  impress  itself  strongly  on  the  child's 
imagination,  and  to  be  known  by  many  people  in 
many  lands  afterwards  as  Shepperton  Church. 
The  father  was  a  remarkable  man,  and  many  of 
the  leading  traits  in  his  character  are  to  be  found 
in  Adam  Bede  and  in  Caleb  Garth,  —  although,  of 

1  The  farm  is  also  known  as  the  South  Farm,  Arbury. 

VOL.   I.  —  1 


2  Fathers  Career.  [griff, 

course,  neither  of  these  is  a  portrait.  He  was 
born  in  1773,  at  Eoston  Common,  in  the  parish  of 
Norbury,  in  the  county  of  Derby,  son  of  a  George 
Evans,  who  carried  on  the  business  of  builder  and 
carpenter  there :  the  Evans  family  having  come 
originally  from  Northop,  in  Elintshire.  Eobert 
was  brought  up  to  the  business,  and  after  a  time 
changed  his  residence  to  Ellastone,  in  Stafford- 
shire. About  1799,  or  a  little  before,  he  held  a 
farm  of  Mr.  Francis  Newdigate  at  Kirk  Hallam, 
in  Derbyshire,  and  became  his  agent.  On  Sir 
Eoger  Newdigate's  death,  the  Arbury  estate  came 
to  Mr.  Francis  Newdigate  for  his  life,  and  Mr. 
Evans  accompanied  him  into  Warwickshire  in 
1806  in  the  capacity  of  agent.  In  1801  he  had 
married  Harriott  Poynton,  by  whom  he  had  two 
children,  —  Eobert,  born  1802,  at  Ellastone,  and 
Frances  Lucy,  born  1805,  at  Kirk  Hallam.  His 
first  wife  died  in  1809;  and  on  8th  February, 
1813,  he  married  Christiana  Pearson,  by  whom 
he  had  three  children, — Christiana,  born  1814; 
Isaac,  born  1816;  and  Mary  Ann,  born  1819. 
Shortly  after  the  last  child's  birth,  Eobert,  the 
son,  became  the  agent,  under  his  father,  for  the 
Kirk  Hallam  property,  and  lived  there  with  his 
sister  Frances,  who  afterwards  married  a  Mr. 
Houghton.  In  March,  1820,  when  the  baby  girl 
was  only  four  months  old,  the  Evans  family  re- 
moved to  Griff,  a  charming  red-brick,  ivy-covered 
house  on  the  Arbury  estate,  —  "  the  warm  little 
nest  where  her  affections  were  fledged, "  —  and 
there  George  Eliot  spent  the  first  twenty-one  years 
of  her  life. 

Let  us  remember  what  the  England  was   upon 
which  this  observant  child  opened  her  eyes. 


1819.]  Becollections  of  Father.  3 

The  date  of  her  birth  was  removed  from  the 
beginning  of  the  French  Eevolution  by  just  the 
same  period  of  time  as  separates  a  child  born  this 
year,  1884,  from  the  beginning  of  the  Crimean 
War.  To  a  man  of  forty-six  to-day,  the  latter 
event  seems  but  of  yesterday.  It  took  place  at  a 
very  impressionable  period  of  his  life,  and  the 
remembrance  of  every  detail  is  perfectly  vivid- 
Mr.  Evans  was  forty-six  when  his  youngest  child 
was  born.  He  was  a  youth  of  sixteen  when  the 
Eevolution  began,  and  that  mighty  event,  with 
all  its  consequences,  had  left  an  indelible  impres- 
sion on  him,  and  the  convictions  and  conclusions 
it  had  fostered  in  his  mind  permeated  through  to 
his  children,  and  entered  as  an  indestructible  ele- 
ment into  the  susceptible  soul  of  his  youngest 
daughter.  There  are  bits  in  the  paper  "  Looking 
Backward,"  in  "  Theophrastus  Such,"  which  are 
true  autobiography. 

"  In  my  earliest  remembrance  of  my  father  his 
hair  was  already  grey,  for  I  was  his  youngest 
child ;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  advanced  age  was 
appropriate  to  a  father,  as  indeed  in  all  respects  I 
considered  him  a  parent  so  much  to  my  honour 
that  the  mention  of  my  relationship  to  him  was 
likely  to  secure  me  regard  among  those  to  whom  I 
was  otherwise  a  stranger,  —  his  stories  from  his 
life  including  so  many  names  of  distant  persons 
that  my  imagination  placed  no  limit  to  his  ac- 
quaintanceship. .  .  .  Nor  can  I  be  sorry,  though 
myself  given  to  meditative  if  not  active  innova- 
tion, that  my  father  was  a  Tory  who  had  not 
exactly  a  dislike  to  innovators  and  dissenters,  but 
a  slight  opinion  of  them  as  persons  of  ill-founded 
self-confidence.   .   .   .    And   I   often   smile   at   my 


4  Eetrospect  of  Year  1819.  [griff, 

consciousness  that  certain  conservative  preposses- 
sions have  mingled  themselves  for  me  with  the 
influences  of  our  midland  scenery,  from  the  tops 
of  the  elms  down  to  the  buttercups  and  the  little 
wayside  vetches.  Naturally  enough.  That  part 
of  my  father's  prime  to  which  he  oftene^t  referred 
had  fallen  on  the  days  when  the  great  wave  of 
political  enthusiasm  and  belief  in  a  speedy  regen- 
eration of  all  things  had  ebbed,  and  the  si  loposed 
millennial  initiative  of  France  was  turning  'ato  a 
Napoleonic  empire.  ...  To  my  father's  mind 
the  noisy  teachers  of  revolutionary  doctrine  were, 
to  speak  mildly,  a  variable  mixture  of  the  fool  and 
the  scoundrel ;  the  welfare  of  the  nation  lay  in  a 
strong  Government  which  could  maintain  ordei  ; 
and  I  was  accustomed  to  hear  him  utter  the  word 
'Government'  in  a  tone  that  charged  it  with  awe, 
and  made  it  part  of  my  effective  religion,  in  con- 
trast with  the  word  '  rebel, '  which  seemed  to  carry 
the  stamp  of  evil  in  its  syllables,  and,  lit  by  the 
fact  that  Satan  was  the  first  rebel,  made  an  argu- 
ment dispensing  with  more  detailed  inquiry.  " 

This  early  association  of  ideas  must  always  be 
borne  in  mind,  as  it  is  the  key  to  a  great  deal  in 
the  mental  attitude  of  the  future  thinker  and 
writer.  It  is  the  foundation  of  the  latent  Con- 
servative bias. 

The  year  1819  is  memorable  as  a  culminating 
period  of  bad  times  and  political  discontent  in  Eng- 
land. The  nation  was  suffering  acutely  from  the 
reaction  after  the  excitement  of  the  last  Napoleonic 
war.  George  IV.  did  not  come  to  the  throne  till 
January,  1820,  so  tbat  George  Eliot  was  born  in  the 
reign  of  George  III.  Tlie  trial  of  Queen  Caroline 
was  the  topic  of  absorbing  public  interest.     Water- 


1820.]  Country  about  Bedworth.  5 

loo  was  not  yet  an  affair  of  five  years  old.  Byron 
had  four  years,  and  Goethe  had  thirteen  years,  still 
to  live.  The  last  of  Miss  Austen's  novels  had  been 
published  only  eighteen  months,  and  the  first  of  the 
Waverley  series  only  six  years  before.  Thackeray 
and  Dickens  were  boys  at  school,  and  George  Sand, 
as  a  girl  of  fifteen,  was  leaving  her  loved  freedom 
on  the  banks  of  the  Indre  for  the  Convent  des  An- 
glaises  at  Paris.  That  "  Greater  Britain  "  (Canada 
and  Australia),  which  to-day  forms  so  large  a  reading 
public,  was  then  scarcely  more  than  a  geographical 
expression,  with  less  than  half  a  million  of  inhab- 
itants, all  told,  where  at  present  there  are  eight 
million;  and  in  the  United  States,  where  more 
copies  of  George  Eliot's  books  are  now  sold  than  in 
any  other  quarter  of  the  world,  the  population  then 
numbered  less  than  ten  million  where  to-day  it  is 
fifty-five  million.  Including  Great  Britain,  these 
English-speaking  races  have  increased  from  thirty 
million  in  1820  to  one  hundred  million  in  1884  ; 
and  with  the  corresponding  increase  in  education 
we  can  form  some  conception  how  a  popular  English 
writer's  fame  has  widened  its  circle. 

There  was  a  remoteness  about  a  detached  country 
house,  in  the  England  of  those  days,  difficult  for 
us  to  conceive  now  with  our  railways,  penny  post, 
and  telegraphs ;  nor  is  the  Warwickshire  country 
about  Griff  an  exhilarating  surrounding.  There  are 
neither  hills  nor  vales,  —  no  rivers,  lakes,  or  sea, 
—  nothing  but  a  monotonous  succession  of  green 
fields  and  hedgerows,  with  some  fine  trees.  The 
only  water  to  be  seen  is  the  "  brown  canal."  The 
effect  of  such  a  landscape  on  an  ordinary  observer 
is  not  inspiring,  but  "effective  magic  is  transcen- 
dent nature;"    and  with   her  transcendent  nature 


6  Manufacturing  Region.  [griff, 

George  Eliot  lias  transfigured  these  scenes,  dear  to 
midland  souls,  into  many  an  idyllic  picture,  known 
to  those  who  know  her  hooks.  In  her  childhood 
the  great  event  of  the  day  was  the  passing  of  the 
coach  before  the  gate  of  Griff  house,  which  lies  at  a 
bend  of  the  highroad  between  Coventry  and  Nun- 
eaton,  and  within  a  couple  of  miles  of  the  mining 
village  of  Bed  worth,  where  the  land  began  "  to  be 
blackened  with  coal-pits,  the  rattle  of  handlooms  to 
be  heard  in  hamlets  and  villages.  Here  were  power- 
ful men  walking  queerly  with  knees  bent  outward 
from  squatting  in  the  mine,  going  home  to  throw 
themselves  down  in  their  blackened  flannel  and 
sleep  through  the  daylight,  then  rise  and  spend 
much  of  their  high  wages  at  the  ale-house  with 
their  fellows  of  the  Benefit  Club  ;  here  the  pale 
eager  faces  of  handloom-weavers,  men  and  women, 
haggard  from  sitting  up  late  at  night  to  finish  the 
week's  work,  hardly  begun  till  the  Wednesday. 
Everywhere  the  cottages  and  the  small  children 
were  dirty,  for  the  languid  mothers  gave  their 
strength  to  the  loom ;  pious  Dissenting  women, 
perhaps,  who  took  life  patiently,  and  thought  that 
salvation  depended  chiefly  on  predestination,  and 
not  at  all  on  cleanliness.  The  gables  of  Dissenting 
chapels  now  made  a  visible  sign  of  religion,  and  of  a 
meeting-place  to  counterbalance  the  ale-house,  even 
in  the  hamlets.  .  .  .  Here  was  a  population  not  con- 
vinced that  old  England  was  as  good  as  possible  ; 
here  were  multitudinous  men  and  women  aware 
that  their  religion  was  not  exactly  the  religion  of 
their  rulers,  who  might  therefore  be  better  than 
they  were,  and  who,  if  better,  might  alter  many 
things  which  now  made  the  world  perhaps  more 
painful  than  it  need  be,  and  certainly  more  sinful. 


1823.]  Coaching  Days.  '  7 

Yet  there  were  the  grey  steeples  too,  and  the  church- 
yards, with  their  grassy  mounds  and  venerable 
headstones,  sleeping  in  the  sunlight ;  there  were 
broad  fields  and  homesteads,  and  fine  old  woods 
covering  a  rising  ground,  or  stretching  far  by  the 
roadside,  allowing  only  peeps  at  the  park  and  man- 
sion which  they  shut  in  from  the  working-day 
world.  In  these  midland  districts  the  traveller 
passed  rapidly  from  one  phase  of  English  life  to 
another  :  after  looking  down  on  a  village  dingy  with 
coal-dust,  noisy  with  the  shaking  of  looms,  he  might 
skirt  a  parish  all  of  fields,  high  hedges,  and  deep- 
rutted  lanes ;  after  the  coach  had  rattled  over  the 
pavement  of  a  manufacturing  town,  the  scene  of 
riots  and  trades-union  meetings,  it  would  take  him 
in  another  ten  minutes  into  a  rural  region,  where 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  town  was  only  felt  in  the 
advantages  of  a  near  market  for  corn,  cheese,  and 
hay,  and  where  men  with  a  considerable  banking 
account  were  accustomed  to  say  that  '  they  never 
meddled  with  politics  themselves.'" ^ 

We  can  imagine  the  excitement  of  a  little  four- 
year-old  girl  and  her  seven-year-old  brother  waiting 
on  bright  frosty  mornings  to  hear  the  far-off  ringing 
beat  of  the  horses'  feet  upon  the  hard  ground,  and 
then  to  see  the  gallant  appearance  of  the  four  greys, 
with  coachman  and  guard  in  scarlet,  outside  passen- 
gers muffled  up  in  furs,  and  baskets  of  game  and 
other  packages  hanging  behind  the  boot,  as  his 
Majesty's  mail  swung  cheerily  round  on  its  way 
from  Birmingham  to  Stamford.  Two  coaches  passed 
the  door  daily,  —  one  from  Birmingham  at  10  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  the  other  from  Stamford  at  3  o'clock 

1  «  Felix  Holt,"  —  Introduction. 


8  Father's  Position.  [griff, 

in  the  afternoon.  These  were  the  chief  connecting 
links  between  the  household  at  Griff  and  the  out- 
side world.  Otherwise  life  went  on  with  that  mo- 
notonous regularity  which  distinguishes  the  country 
from  the  town.  And  it  is  to  these  circumstances  of 
her  early  life  that  a  great  part  of  the  quality  of 
George  Eliot's  writing  is  due,  and  that  she  holds  the 
place  she  has  attained  in  English  literature.  Her 
roots  were  down  in  the  pre-railroad,  pre-telegraphic 
period,  —  the  days  of  fine  old  leisure,  —  but  the 
fruit  was  formed  during  an  era  of  extraordinary 
activity  in  scientific  and  mechanical  discovery.  Her 
genius  was  the  outcome  of  these  conditions.  It 
could  not  have  existed  in  the  same  form  deprived  of 
either  influence.  Her  father  was  busy  both  with 
his  own  farm  work  and  increasing  agency  business. 
He  was  already  remarked  in  Warwickshire  for  his 
knowledge  and  judgment  in  all  matters  relating  to 
land,  and  for  his  general  trustworthiness  and  high 
character,  so  that  he  was  constantly  selected  as 
arbitrator  and  valuer.  He  had  a  wonderful  eye, 
especially  for  valuing  woods,  and  could  calculate 
with  almost  absolute  precision  the  quantity  of  avail- 
able timber  in  a  standing  tree.  In  addition  to  his 
merits  as  a  man  of  business,  he  had  the  good  for- 
tune to  possess  the  warm  friendship  and  consistent 
support  of  Colonel  Newdigate  of  Astley  Castle,  son 
of  Mr.  Francis  Newdigate  of  Arbury,  and  it  was 
mainly  through  the  Colonel's  introduction  and  in- 
fluence that  Mr.  Evans  became  agent  also  to  Lord 
Aylesford,  Lord  Lifford,  Mr.  Bromley  Davenport, 
and  several  others. 

His  position  cannot  be  better  summed  up  than  in 
the  words  of  his  daughter,  writing  to  Mr.  Bray  on 
30th  September,  1859,  in  regard  to  some  one  who 


1823.]  Father's  Position.  9 

had  written  of  her,  after  the  appearance  of  "  Adam 
Bede,"  as  a  "  self-educated  farmer's  daughter." 

"  My  father  did  not  raise  himself  from  being  an 
artisan  to  be  a  farmer  :  he  raised  himself  from  being 
an  artisan  to  be  a  man  whose  extensive  knowledge 
in  very  varied  practical  departments  made  his 
services  valued  through  several  counties.  He  had 
large  knowledge  of  building,  of  mines,  of  planta- 
tions, of  various  branches  of  valuation  and  meas- 
urement, —  of  all  that  is  essential  to  the  management 
of  large  estates.  He  was  held  by  those  competent 
to  judge  as  unique  amongst  land  agents  for  his  mani- 
fold knowledge  and  experience,  which  enabled  him 
to  save  the  special  fees  usually  paid  by  landowners 
for  special  opinions  on  the  different  questions  inci- 
dent to  the  proprietorship  of  land.  So  far  as  I  am 
personally  concerned,  I  should  not  write  a  stroke  to 
prevent  any  one,  in  the  zeal  of  antithetic  eloquence, 
from  calling  me  a  tinker's  daughter ;  but  if  my 
father  is  to  be  mentioned  at  all,  —  if  he  is  to  be 
identified  with  an  imaginary  character,  —  my  piety 
towards  his  memory  calls  on  me  to  point  out  to 
those  who  are  supposed  to  speak  with  information 
what  he  really  achieved  in  life." 

Mr.  Evans  was  also  —  like  Adam  Bede  —  note- 
worthy for  his  extraordinary  physical  strength  and 
determination  of  character.  There  is  a  story  told  of 
him,  that  one  day  when  he  was  travelling  on  the 
top  of  a  coach,  down  in  Kent,  a  decent  woman  sit- 
ting next  him  complained  that  a  great  hulking 
sailor  on  her  other  side  was  making  himself  offen- 
sive. Mr.  Evans  changed  places  with  the  woman, 
and,  taking  the  sailor  by  the  collar,  forced  him  down 
under  the  seat,  and  held  him  there  with  an  iron  hand 
for  the  remainder  of  the  stage  ;  and  at  Griff  it  is  still 


10  Darnels  School.  [griff, 

remembered  that  the  master  happening  to  pass  one 
day  whilst  a  couple  of  labourers  were  waiting  for  a 
third  to  help  to  move  the  high  heavy  ladder  used 
for  thatching  ricks,  braced  himself  up  to  a  great 
effort,  and  carried  the  ladder  alone  and  unaided  from 
one  rick  to  the  other,  to  the  wide-eyed  wonder  and 
admiration  of  his  men.  With  all  this  strength, 
however,  both  of  body  and  of  character,  he  seems  to 
have  combined  a  certain  self-distrust,  owing  perhaps 
to  his  early  imperfect  education,  which  resulted  in 
a  general  submissiveness  in  his  domestic  relations, 
more  or  less  portrayed  in  the  character  of  Mr.  Garth. 
His  second  wife  was  a  woman  w:th  an  unusual 
amount  of  natural  force,  —  a  shrewd  practical  person, 
with  a  considerable  dash  of  the  Mrs.  Poyser  vein  in 
her.  Hers  was  an  affectionate,  warm-hearted  nature, 
and  her  children,  on  whom  she  cast  "  the  bene- 
diction of  her  gaze,"  were  thoroughly  attached  to 
her.  She  came  of  a  race  of  yeomen,  and  her  social 
position  was  therefore  rather  better  than  her  hus- 
band's at  the  time  of  their  marriage.  Her  family 
are,  no  doubt,  prototypes  of  the  Dodsons  in  the 
"  Mill  on  the  Floss."  There  were  three  other  sisters 
married  and  all  living  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Griff, 
—  Mrs.  Everard,  Mrs.  Johnson,  and  Mrs.  Garner,  — 
and  probably  Mr.  Evans  heard  a  good  deal  about 
"  the  traditions  in  the  Pearson  family."  Mrs. 
Evans  was  a  very  active  hard-working  woman,  but 
shortly  after  her  last  child's  birth  she  became  ailing 
in  health,  and  consequently  her  eldest  girl,  Christi- 
ana, was  sent  to  school  at  a  very  early  age,  to  Miss 
Lathom's  at  Attleboro,  —  a  village  a  mile  or  two 
from  Griff,  —  whilst  the  two  younger  children  spent 
some  part  of  their  time  every  day  at  the  cottage  of 
a  Mrs.  Moore,  who  kept  a  Dame's  school  close  to 


1823.]  Exclusive  Disposition.  11 

Griff  gates.  The  little  girl  very  early  became  pos- 
sessed with  the  idea  that  she  was  going  to  be  a 
personage  in  the  world;  and  Mr.  Charles  Lewes 
has  told  me  an  anecdote  which  George  Eliot  related 
of  herself  as  characteristic  of  this  period  of  her 
childhood.  When  she  was  only  four  years  old,  she 
recollected  playing  on  the  piano,  of  which  she  did 
not  know  one  note,  in  order  to  impress  the  servant 
with  a  proper  notion  of  her  acquirements  and  gene- 
rally distinguished  position.  This  was  the  time 
when  the  love  for  her  brother  grew  in  to  the  child's 
affections.  She  used  always  to  be  at  his  heels,  in- 
sisting on  doing  everything  he  did.  She  was  not 
in  these  baby-days  in  the  least  precocious  in  learn- 
ing. In  fact,  her  half-sister,  Mrs.  Houghton, — 
who  was  some  fourteen  years  her  senior,  —  told  me 
that  the  child  learned  to  read  with  some  diffi- 
culty; but  Mr.  Isaac  Evans  says  that  this  was 
not  fi'om  any  slowness  in  apprehension,  but  because 
she  liked  playing  so  much  better.  Mere  sharpness, 
however,  was  not  a  characteristic  of  her  mind. 
Hers  was  a  large,  slow-growing  nature  ;  and  I  think 
it  is  at  any  rate  certain  that  there  was  nothing  of 
the  infant  phenomenon  about  her.  In  her  moral 
development  she  showed,  from  the  earliest  years, 
the  trait  that  was  most  marked  in  her  all  through 
life,  —  namely,  the  absolute  need  of  some  one  person 
who  should  be  all  in  all  to  her,  and  to  whom  she 
should  be  all  in  all.  Very  jealous  in  her  affections, 
and  easily  moved  to  smiles  or  tears,  she  was  of  a 
nature  capable  of  the  keenest  enjoyment  and  the 
keenest  suffering,  knowing  "all  the  wealth  and  all 
the  woe "  of  a  pre-eminently  exclusive  disposition. 
She  was  affectionate,  proud,  and  sensitive  in  the 
highest  degree. 


12         Miss  Lathom's  School  at  Attlehoro.       [griff, 

The  sort  of  happiness  that  belongs  to  this  bud- 
ding time  of  life  —  from  the  age  of  three  to  five  — 
is  apt  to  impress  itself  very  strongly  on  the  mem- 
ory ;  and  it  is  this  period  which  is  referred  to  in 
the  Brother  and  Sister  Sonnet,  "  But  were  another 
childhood's  world  my  share,  I  would  be  born  a 
little  sister  there."  When  her  brother  was  eialit 
years  old,  he  was  sent  to  school  at  Coventry,  and, 
her  mother  continuing  in  very  delicate  health,  the 
little  Mary  Ann,  now  five  years  of  age,  went  to 
join  her  sister  at  Miss  Lathom's  school  at  Attle- 
horo, where  they  continued  as  boarders  for  three 
or  four  years,  coming  occasionally  home  to  Griff 
on  Saturdays.  During  one  of  our  walks  at  Wit- 
ley,  in  1880,  my  wife  mentioned  to  me  that  what 
chiefly  remained  in  her  recollection  about  this  very 
early  school-life  was  the  difficulty  of  getting  near 
enough  the  fire  in  winter,  to  become  thoroughly 
warmed,  owing  to  the  circle  of  girls  forming  round 
too  narrow  a  fireplace.  This  suffering  from  cold 
w^s  the  beginning  of  a  low  general  state  of  health  : 
also  at  this  time  she  began  to  be  subject  to  fears  at 
night,  —  "  the  susceptibility  to  terror,"  —  which  she 
has  described  as  haunting  Gwendolen  Harleth  in 
her  childhood.  The  other  girls  in  the  school,  who 
were  all  naturally  very  much  older,  made  a  great  pet 
of  the  child,  and  used  to  call  her  "  little  mamma," 
and  she  was  not  unhappy  except  at  nights ;  but 
she  told  me  that  this  liability  to  have  "  all  her  soul 
become  a  quivering  fear,"  which  remained  with  her 
afterwards,  had  been  one  of  the  supremely  impor- 
tant influences  dominating  at  times  her  future  life. 
Mr.  Isaac  Evans's  chief  recollection  of  this  period 
is  the  delight  of  the  little  sister  at  his  home-coming 
for  holidays,  and  her  anxiety  to  know  all  that  he 


1824.]  Hapjpy  Childhood.  13 

had  been  doing  and  learning.  The  eldest  child, 
who  went  by  the  name  of  Clirissey,  was  the  chief 
favourite  of  the  aunts,  as  she  was  always  neat  and 
tidy,  and  used  to  spend  a  great  deal  of  her  time 
with  them,  whilst  the  other  two  were  inseparable 
playfellows  at  home.  The  boy  was  his  mother's 
pet,  and  the  girl  her  father's.  They  had  everything 
to  make  children  happy  at  Griff,  —  a  delightful  old- 
fashioned  garden,  —  a  pond,  and  the  canal  to  fish 
in^  —  and  the  farm  offices,  close  to  the  house, — 
"  the  long  cow-shed  where  generations  of  the  milky 
mothers  have  stood  patiently,  —  the  broad-shoul- 
dered barns  where  the  old-fashioned  Hail  once  made 
resonant  music,"  and  where  butter-making  and 
cheese-making  were  carried  on  with  great  vigour 
by  Mrs.  Evans. 

Any  one,  about  this  time,  who  happened  to  look 
through  the  window  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the 
door  of  Griff  house,  would  have  seen  a  pretty  pic- 
ture in  the  dining-room  on  Saturday  evenings  after 
tea.  The  powerful  middle-aged  man  with  the 
strongly  marked  features  sits  in  his  deep  leather- 
covered  arm-chair,  at  the  right-hand  corner  of  the 
ruddy  fireplace,  with  the  head  of  "  the  little  wench  " 
between  his  knees.  The  child  turns  over  the  book 
with  pictures  that  she  wishes  her  father  to  explain 
to  her,  —  or  that  perhaps  she  prefers  explaining  to 
him.  Her  rebellious  hair  is  all  over  her  eyes,  much 
vexing  the  pale,  energetic  mother,  who  sits  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  fire,  cumbered  with  much  ser- 
vice, letting  no  instant  of  time  escape  the  inevitable 
click  of  the  knitting-needles, —  accompanied  by  epi- 
grammatic speech.  The  elder  girl,  prim  and  tidy, 
with  her  work  before  her,  is  by  her  mother's  side ; 
and   the   brother,   between  the   two  groups,  keeps 


14  Earliest  Reading.  [griff, 

assuring  himself  by  perpetual  search  that  none  of 
his  favourite  means  of  amusement  are  escaping 
from  his  pockets.  The  father  is  already  very 
proud  of  the  astonishing  and  growing  intelligence 
of  his  little  girl.  From  a  very  early  age  he  has 
been  in  the  habit  of  taking  her  with  him  in  his 
drives  about  the  neighbourhood,  "  standing  between 
her  father's  knees  as  he  drove  leisurely,"  so  that 
she  has  drunk  in  knowledge  of  the  country  and 
of  country  folk  at  all  her  pores.  An  old-iashioned 
child,  already  living  in  a  world  of  her  own  imagina- 
tion, impressible  to  her  finger-tips,  and  willing  tc 
give  her  views  on  any  subject. 

The  first  book  that  George  Eliot  read,  so  far  as 
I  have  been  able  to  ascertain,  was  a  little  volume 
published  in  1822,  entitled  "The  Linnet's  Life," 
wdiich  she  gave  to  me  in  the  last  year  of  her  life,  at 
Witley.  It  bears  the  following  inscription,  written 
some  time  before  she  gave  it  to  me :  — 

"  This  little  book  is  the  first  present  I  ever  re- 
member having  received  from  my  father.  Let  any 
one  who  thinks  of  me  with  some  tenderness  after  I 
am  dead,  take  care  of  this  book  for  my  sake.  It 
made  me  very  happy  when  I  held  it  in  my  little 
hands,  and  read  it  over  and  over  again  ;  and  thought 
the  pictures  beautiful,  especially  the  one  where  the 
linnet  is  feeding  her  young." 

It  must,  I  think,  have  been  very  shortly  after 
she  received  this  present,  that  an  old  friend  of  the 
family,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  coming  as  a  visitor 
to  Griff  from  time  to  time,  used  occasionally  to 
bring  a  book  in  his  band  for  the  little  girl.  I  very 
well  remember  her  expressing  to  me  deep  gratitude 
for  tbis  early  ministration  to  her  childish  deliglits  ; 
and  Mr.  Burne  Jones  has  been  kind  enough  to  tell 


1826.]  First  Journey  to  Staffordshire.  15 

me  of  a  conversation  with  George  Eliot  about  chil- 
dren's books,  when  she  also  referred  to  this  old 
gentleman's  kindness.  They  were  agreeing  in  dis- 
paragement of  some  of  the  books  that  the  rising 
generation  take  their  pleasure  in,  and  she  recalled 
the  dearth  of  child-literature  in  her  own  home,  and 
her  passionate  delight  and  total  absorption  in  ^sop's 
Fables  (given  to  her  by  the  aforesaid  old  gentleman), 
the  possession  of  which  had  opened  new  worlds  to 
her  imagination.  Mr.  Burne  Jones  particularly  re- 
members how  heartily  she  laughed  in  recalling  her 
infantine  enjoyment  of  the  humour  in  the  fable  of 
Mercury  and  the  Statue-seller.  Having  so  few 
books  at  this  time,  she  read  them  again  and  again, 
until  she  knew  them  by  heart.  One  of  them  was 
a  Joe  Miller  jest-book,  with  the  stories  from  which 
she  used  greatly  to  astonish  the  family  circle.  But 
the  beginning  of  her  serious  reading-days  did  not 
come  till  later.  Meantime  her  talent  for  observa- 
tion gained  a  glorious  new  field  for  employment  in 
her  first  journey  from  home,  which  took  place  in 
1826.  Her  father  and  mother  took  her  with  them 
on  a  little  trip  into  Derbyshire  and  Staffordshire, 
where  she  saw  Mr.  Evans's  relations,  and  they  came 
back  through  Lichfield,  sleeping  at  the  "Swan."i 
They  were  away  only  a  week,  from  the  18th  to  the 
24th  of  May  ;  but  "  what  time  is  little  "  to  an  imagi- 
native, observant  child  of  seven  on  her  first  journey  ? 
About  this  time  a  deeply  felt  crisis  occurred  in  her 
life,  as  her  brother  had  a  pony  given  to  him,  to 
which  he  became  passionately  attached.  He  de- 
veloped an  absorbing  interest  in  riding,  and  cared 
less  and  less  to  play  with  his  sister.  The  next 
important  event  happened  in  her  eighth  or  ninth 
1  Seefos^,  Journal,  Aug.  25,  1859, —chap.  ix. 


16  Writes  out  "  Waverley"  [griff, 

year,  when  she  was  sent  to  Miss  Wallington's 
school  at  Nuneaton,  with  her  sister.  This  was  a 
much  larger  school  than  Miss  Lathom's,  —  there 
being  some  thirty  girls,  boarders.  Tlie  principal 
governess  was  Miss  Lewis,  who  became  then,  and 
remained  for  many  years  after,  Mary  Ann  Evans's 
most  intimate  friend  and  principal  correspondent ; 
and  I  am  indebted  to  the  letters  addressed  to  her 
from  1836  to  1842  for  most  of  the  information  con- 
cerning that  period.  Books  now  became  a  passion 
with  the  child :  she  read  everything  she  could  lay 
hands  on,  greatly  troubling  the  soul  of  her  mother 
by  the  consumption  of  candles  as  well  as  of  eyesight 
in  her  bedroom.  From  a  subsequent  letter,  it  will 
be  seen  that  she  was  "  early  supplied  with  works  of 
fiction  by  those  who  kindly  sought  to  gratify  her 
appetite  for  reading." 

It  must  have  been  about  this  time  that  the 
episode  occurred  in  relation  to  "  Waverley "  which 
is  mentioned  by  Miss  Simcox  in  her  article  in  the 
June,  1881,  number  of  the  "  Nineteenth  Century 
Eeview."  It  was  quite  new  to  me,  and  as  it  is  very 
interesting,  I  give  it  in  Miss  Simcox's  own  words : 
"Somewhere  about  1827  a  friendly  neighbour  lent 
'  Waverley '  to  an  elder  sister  of  little  Mary  Ann 
Evans.  It  was  returned  before  the  child  had  read 
to  the  end,  and  in  her  distress  at  the  loss  of  the 
fascinating  volume,  she  began  to  write  out  the  story 
as  far  as  she  had  read  it  for  herself,  beginning 
naturally  where  the  story  begins  with  Waverley's 
adventures  at  Tally  Vcolan,  and  continuing  until 
the  surprised  elders  were  moved  to  get  her  the  book 
again."  Miss  Simcox  has  pointed  out  the  reference 
to  this  in  the  motto  of  the  57th  chapter  of  "  Middle- 
march  " :  — 


1827.]  Books  Bead.  17 

"  They  numbered  scarce  eight  summers  when  a  name 
Rose  on  their  souls  and  stirred  such  motions  there 
As  thrill  the  buds  and  shape  their  hidden  frame 

At  penetration  of  the  quickening  air : 
His  name  who  told  of  loyal  Evan  Dhu, 

Of  quaint  Bradwardine,  and  Vich  Ian  Vor, 
Making  the  little  world  their  childhood  knew 

Large  with  a  land  of  mountain,  lake,  and  scaur, 
And  larger  yet  with  wonder,  love,  belief 

Toward  Walter  Scott,  who  living  far  away 
Sent  them  this  wealth  of  joy  and  noble  grief. 
The  book  and  they  must  part,  but  day  by  day, 
In  lines  that  thwart  like  portly  spiders  ran 
They  wrote  the  tale,  from  Tully  Veolan." 


Miss  Simcox  also  mentions  that  "  Elia  divided  her 
childish  allegiance  with  Scott,  and  she  remembered 
feasting  with  singular  pleasure  upon  an  extract  in 
some  stray  almanac  from  the  essay  in  commemora- 
tion of  '  Captain  Jackson  and  his  slender  ration  of 
Single  Gloucester.'  This  is  an  extreme  example  of 
the  general  rule  that  a  wise  child's  taste  in  litera- 
ture is  sounder  than  adults  generally  venture  to 
believe." 

We  know  too,  from  the  "  Mill  on  the  Floss,"  that 
the  "  History  of  the  Devil,"  by  Daniel  Defoe,  was  a 
favourite.  The  book  is  still  religiously  preserved 
at  Griff,  with  its  pictures  just  as  Maggie  looked  at 
them.  "  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  also,  and  "  Eas- 
selas,"  had  a  large  share  of  her  affections. 

At  Miss  Wallington's  the  growing  girl  soon  dis- 
tinguished herself  by  an  easy  mastery  of  the  usual 
school  learning  of  her  years ;  and  there,  too,  the 
religious  side  of  her  nature  was  developed  to  a 
remarkable  degree.  Miss  Lewis  was  an  ardent 
evangelical  Churchwoman,  and  exerted  a  strong 
influence  on  her  young  pupil,  whom  she  found 
very    sympathetically    inclined.      But  Mary  Ann 

vol..  I.  —  2 


18  3Iiss  Frmiklin's  School  at  Coventry,    [gkiff, 

Evans  did  not  associate  freely  with  her  school- 
fellows, and  her  friendship  with  Miss  Lewis  was 
the  only  intimacy  she  indulged  in. 

On  coming  home  for  their  holidays  the  sister  and 
brother  began,  about  this  time,  the  habit  of  acting 
charades  together  before  the  Griff  household  and  the 
aunts,  who  were  greatly  impressed  with  the  clever- 
ness of  the  performance ;  and  the  girl  was  now 
recognised  in  the  family  circle  as  no  ordinary  child. 

Another  epoch  presently  succeeded  on  her  re- 
moval to  Miss  Franklin's  school  at  Coventry,  in 
her  thirteenth  year.  She  was  probably  then  very 
much  what  she  has  described  her  own  Maggie  at 
the  age  of  thirteen  :  — 

"  A  creature  full  of  eager,  passionate  longings  for 
all  that  was  beautiful  and  glad ;  thirsty  for  all 
knowledge ;  with  an  ear  straining  after  dreamy 
music  that  died  away  and  would  not  come  near  to 
her ;  with  a  blind  unconscious  vearning  for  some- 
thing  that  would  link  together  the  wonderful  im- 
pressions of  this  mysterious  life,  and  give  her  soul 
a  sense  of  home  in  it.  No  wonder,  when  there  is 
this  contrast  between  the  outward  and  the  inward, 
that  painful  collisions  come  of  it." 

In  "  Our  Times  "  of  June,  1881,  there  is  a  paper 
by  a  lady  whose  mother  was  at  school  w'ith  Mary 
Ann  Evans,  which  gives  some  interesting  particu- 
lars of  the  Miss  Franklins. 

"They  were  daughters  of  a  Baptist  minister,  who 
had  preached  for  many  years  in  Coventry,  and  who 
inhabited  during  his  pastorate  a  house  iu  the 
Chapel-yard  almost  exactly  resembling  that  of 
Eufus  Lyon  in  'Felix  Holt.'  For  this  venerable 
gentleman,  Miss  Evans  as  a  school-girl  had  a  great 
admiration,  and  I,  who  can  remember  him  well,  can 


1831.]  Excels  her  Schoolfelloivs.  19 

trace  in  Rufus  Lyon  himself  many  slight  resem- 
blances, such  as  the  '  little  legs,'  and  the  habit  of 
walking  up  and  down  when  composing.  Miss 
Eebecca  Franklin  was  a  lady  of  considerable  intel- 
lectual power,  and  remarkable  for  her  elegance  in 
writing  and  conversation,  as  well  as  for  her  beauti- 
ful  caligraphy.  In  her  classes  for  English  Compo- 
sition Mary  Ann  Evans  was,  from  her  first  entering 
the  school,  far  in  advance  of  the  rest ;  and  while  the 
themes  of  the  other  children  were  read,  criticised, 
and  corrected  in  class,  hers  were  reserved  for  the 
private  perusal  and  enjoyment  of  the  teacher,  who 
rarely  found  anything  to  correct.  Her  enthusiasm 
for  music  was  already  very  strongly  marked,  and  her 
music-master,  a  much-tried  man,  suffering  from  the 
irritability  incident  to  his  profession,  reckoned  on 
his  hour  with  her  as  a  refreshment  to  his  wearied 
nerves,  and  soon  had  to  confess  that  he  had  no  more 
to  teach  her.  In  connection  with  this  proficiency 
in  music,  my  mother  recalls  her  sensitiveness  at 
that  time  as  being  painfully  extreme.  When  there 
were  visitors,  Miss  Evans,  as  the  best  performer  in 
the  school,  was  sometimes  summoned  to  the  par- 
lour to  play  for  their  amusement,  and  though 
suffering  agonies  from  shyness  and  reluctance,  she 
obeyed  with  all  readiness ;  but  on  being  released, 
my  mother  has  often  known  her  to  rush  to  her 
room  and  throw  herself  on  the  floor  in  an  agony  of 
tears.  Her  schoolfellows  loved  her  as  much  as 
they  could  venture  to  love  one  whom  they  felt  to  be 
so  immeasurably  superior  to  themselves,  and  she 
had  playful  nicknames  for  most  of  them.  My 
mother,  who  was  delicate,  and  to  whom  she  was 
very  kind,  was  dubbed  by  her  '  Miss  Equanimity.' 
A  source  of  great  interest  to  the  girls,  and  of  envy 


20  Regard  for  Miss  FrariJcUns.  [griff, 

to  those  who  lived  further  from  home,  was  the 
weekly  cart  which  brought  Miss  Evans  new-laid 
eggs  and  other  delightful  produce  of  her  father's 
farm." 

In  talking  about  these  early  days,  my  wife  im- 
pressed on  my  mind  the  debt  she  felt  that  she 
owed  to  the  Miss  Franklins  for  their  excellent  in- 
struction, and  she  had  also  the  very  highest  respect 
for  their  moral  qualities.  With  her  chameleon-like 
nature,  she  soon  adopted  their  religious  views  with 
intense  eagerness  and  conviction,  although  she 
never  formally  joined  the  Baptists  or  any  other 
communion  than  the  Church  of  England.  She  at 
once,  however,  took  a  foremost  place  in  the  school, 
and  became  a  leader  of  prayer-meetings  amongst 
the  girls.  In  addition  to  a  sound  English  educa- 
tion, the  Miss  Franklins  managed  to  procure  for 
their  pupils  excellent  masters  for  French,  German, 
and  music ;  so  that,  looking  to  the  lights  of  those 
times,  the  means  of  obtaining  knowledge  were  very 
much  above  the  average  for  girls.  Her  teachers, 
on  their  side,  were  very  proud  of  their  exceptionally 
gifted  scholar ;  and  years  afterwards,  when  Miss 
Evans  came  with  her  father  to  live  in  Coventry, 
they  introduced  her  to  one  of  their  friends  not 
only  as  a  marvel  of  mental  power,  but  also  as 
a  person  "  sure  to  get  something  up  very  soon 
in  the  way  of  clothing  club  or  other  charitable 
undertaking." 

This  year,  1832,  was  not  only  memorable  for  the 
change  to  a  new  and  superior  school,  but  it  was  also 
much  more  memorable  to  George  Eliot  for  the  riot 
which  sl)e  saw  at  Nuneaton,  on  the  occasion  of  the 
election  for  North  Warwickshire,  after  the  passing 
of  the  great  Eeform  Bill,  and  which  subsequently 


1832.]  Bwt  at  Nuneaton.  21 

furnished  her  with  the  incidents  for  the  riot  in 
"  Felix  Holt."  It  was  an  event  to  lay  hold  on  the 
imagination  of  an  impressionable  girl  of  thirteen, 
and  it  is  thus  described  in  the  local  newspaper  of 
29th  December,  1832  :  — 

"  On  Friday  the  21st  December,  at  Nuneaton, 
from  the  commencement  of  the  poll  till  nearly  half- 
past  two,  the  Hemingites  ^  occupied  the  poll ;  the 
numerous  plumpers  for  Sir  Eardley  Wilmot  and  the 
adherents  of  Mr.  Dugdale  being  constantly  inter- 
rupted in  their  endeavours  to  go  to  the  hustings 
to  give  an  honest  and  conscientious  vote.  The 
magistrates  were  consequently  applied  to,  and  from 
the  representations  they  received  from  all  parties, 
they  were  at  length  induced  to  call  in  aid  a  military 
force.  A  detaohment  of  the  Scots  Greys  accord- 
ingly arrived ;  but  it  appearing  that  that  gallant 
body  was  not  sufficiently  strong  to  put  down  the 
turbulent  spirit  of  the  mob,  a  reinforcement  was 
considered  by  the  constituted  authorities  as  abso- 
lutely necessary.  The  tumult  increasing,  as  the 
detachment  of  the  Scots  Greys  were  called  in,  the 
Biot  Aot  was  read  from  the  windows  of  the  New- 
digate  Arms ;  and  we  regret  to  add  that  both  W. 
P.  Inge,  Esq.,  and  Colonel  Newdigate,  in  the  dis- 
charge of  their  magisterial  duties,  received  personal 
injuries. 

"On  Saturday  the  mob  presented  an  appalling 
appearance,  and  but  for  the  forbearance  of  the  sol- 
diery, numerous  lives  would  have  fallen  a  sacrifice. 
Several  of  the  officers  of  the  Scots  Greys  were  ma- 
terially hurt  in  their  attempt  to  quell  the  riotous 
proceedings  of  the  mob.  During  the  day  the  sub- 
sheriffs   at    the   different   booths   received    several 

1  A  Mr.  Heming  was  the  Radical  candidate. 


22  Mother's  Death.  [oriff, 

letters  from  the  friends  of  Mr.  Dugdale,  stating  that 
they  were  outside  of  the  town,  and  anxious  to  vote 
for  that  gentleman,  but  were  deterred  from  entering 
it  from  fear  of  personal  violence.  Two  or  three 
unlucky  individuals,  drawn  from  the  files  of  the 
military  on  their  approach  to  the  poll,  were  cruelly 
beaten  and  stripped  literally  naked.  We  regret  to 
add  that  one  life  has  been  sacrificed  during  the 
contest,  and  that  several  misguided  individuals 
have  been   seriously  injured." 

The  term  ending  Christmas,  1835,  was  the  last 
spent  at  Miss  Franklin's.  In  the  first  letter  of 
George  Eliot's  that  I  have  been  able  to  discover, 
dated  6th  January,  1836,  and  addressed  to  Miss 
Lewis,  who  was  at  that  time  governess  in  the  fam- 
ily of  the  Kev.  L.  Harper,  Burton  Latimer,  North- 
amptonshire, she  speaks  of  her  mother  having 
suffered  a  great  increase  of  pain,  and  adds:  — 

"  We  dare  not  hope  that  there  will  be  a  permanent 
improvement.  Our  anxieties  on  my  mother's  ac- 
count, though  so  great,  have  been  since  Thursday 
almost  lost  sight  of  in  the  more  sudden  and  con- 
sequently more  severe  trial  which  we  have  been 
called  on  to  endure  in  the  alarming  illness  of  my 
dear  father.  For  four  days  we  had  no  cessation 
of  our  anxiety  ;  but  I  am  thankful  to  say  that 
he  is  now  considered  out  of  danger,  though  very 
much  reduced  by  frequent  bleedmg  and  very  power- 
ful medicines." 

In  the  summer  of  this  year,  1836,  the  mother 
died,  after  a  long  painful  illness,  in  which  she  was 
nursed  with  great  devotion  by  her  daughters.  It 
was  their  first  acquaintance  with  death ;  and  to  a 
highly  wrought,  sensitive  girl  of  sixteen,  such  a  loss 
seems  an  unendurable  calamitv.     "  To  tlie  old,  sor- 


1836.]  Sister's  Marriage.  23 

row  is  sorrow ;  to  the  young  it  is  despair."  Many 
references  will  be  found  in  the  subsequent  corre- 
spondence to  what  she  suffered  at  this  time,  all 
summed  up  in  the  old  popular  phrase,  "We  can 
have  but  one  mother."  In  the  following  spring 
Christiana  was  married  to  Mr.  Edward  Clarke,  a 
surgeon  practising  at  Meriden  in  Warwickshire. 
One  of  Mr.  Isaac  Evans's  most  vivid  recollections  is 
that  on  the  day  of  the  marriage,  after  the  bride's 
departure,  he  and  his  younger  sister  had  "  a  good 
cry"  together  over  the  break  up  of  the  old  home- 
life,  which  of  course  could  never  be  the  same  with 
the  mother  and  the  elder  sister  wanting. 

Twenty -three  years  later  we  shall  find  George 
Eliot  writing,  on  the  death  of  this  sister,  that  she 
"  had  a  very  special  feeling  for  her,  —  stronger  than 
any  third  person  would  think  likely."  The  rela- 
tion between  the  sisters  was  somewhat  like  that 
described  as  existing  between  Dorothea  and  Celia 
in  "  Middlemarch,"  —  no  intellectual  affinity,  but  a 
strong  family  affection.  In  fact,  my  wife  told  me 
that  although  Celia  was  not  in  any  sense  a  portrait 
of  her  sister,  she  "had  Chrissey  continually  in 
mind"  in  delineating  Celia's  character.  But  we 
must  be  careful  not  to  found  too  much  on  such  sug- 
gestions of  character  in  George  Eliot's  books ;  and 
this  must  particularly  be  borne  in  mind  in  the  "  Mill 
on  the  Eloss."  No  doubt  the  early  part  of  Maggie's 
portraiture  is  the  best  autobiographical  representa- 
tion we  can  have  of  George  Eliot's  own  feelings  in 
her  childhood,  and  many  of  the  incidents  in  the 
book  are  based  on  real  experiences  of  family  life, 
but  so  mixed  with  fictitious  elements  and  situations 
that  it  would  be  absolutely  misleading  to  trust  to  it 
as  a  true  history.     For  instance,  all  that  happened 


24  Relations  with  Brother.  [griff. 

in  real  life  between  the  brother  and  sister  was,  I 
believe,  that  as  they  grew  up  their  characters,  pur- 
siiits,  and  tastes  diverged  more  and  more  widely. 
He  took  to  his  father's  business,  at  which  he  worked 
steadily,  and  which  absorbed  most  of  his  time  and 
attention.  He  was  also  devoted  to  Imnting,  liked 
the  ordinary  pleasures  of  a  young  man  in  his  cir- 
cumstances, and  was  quite  s^vtisfied  with  the  circle 
of  acquaintance  in  which  he  moved,  After  leaving 
school  at  Coventry  he  went  to  a  private  tutor's  at 
Birmingham,  where  he  imbibed  strong  High  Church 
views.  His  sister  had  oome  back  from  the  Miss 
Franklins'  with  ultra-evangelical  tendencies,  and 
their  differences  of  opinion  used  to  lead  to  a  good 
deal  of  animated  argument.  Miss  Evans,  as  she 
now  was,  could  not  rest  satisfied  with  a  mere  pro- 
fession of  faith  without  trying  to  shape  her  own  life 
—  and  it  may  be  added,  the  lives  around  her — in 
accordance  with  her  convictions.  The  pursuit  of 
pleasure  was  a  snare ;  dress  was  vanity ;  society 
was  a  danger. 

"  From  what  you  know  of  her,  you  will  not  be 
surprised  that  she  threw  some  exaggeration  and  wil- 
fulness, some  pride  and  impetuosity,  even  into  her 
self-renunciation:  her  own  life  was  still  a  drama 
for  her,  in  which  gho  demanded  of  herself  that  her 
part  should  be  played  with  intensity.  And  so  it 
came  to  pass  that  she  often  lost  the  spirit  of 
humility  by  being  excessive  in  the  outward  act; 
she  often  strove  after  too  high  a  fiight,  and  came 
down  with  her  poor  little  ludr-Hedged  whigs  dabbled 
in  the  mud.  .  .  .  That  is  the  ])ath  we  all  like  when 
we  set  out  on  our  al»andonm(>.nt  of  egoism, —  the 
path  of  martyrdom  and  endurance,  where  the  palm 
branches  grow,  rather  than  the  steep   higliway  of 


1837.]  Head  of  House  at  Griff.  25 

tolerance,  just  allowance,  and  self-blame,  where 
there  are  no  leafy  honours  to  be  gathered  and 
worn."  1 

After  Christiana's  marriage  the  entire  charge  of 
the  Griff  establishment  devolved  on  Mary  Ann, 
who  became  a  most  exemplary  housewife,  learned 
thoroughly  everything  that  had  to  be  done,  and, 
with  her  innate  desire  for  perfection,  was  never 
satisfied  unless  her  department  was  administered 
in  the  very  best  manner  that  circumstances  per- 
mitted. She  spent  a  great  deal  of  time  in  visiting 
the  poor,  organising  clothing  clubs,  and  other  works 
of  active  charity.  But  over  and  above  this,  as  will 
be  seen  from  the  following  letters,  she  was  always 
prosecuting  an  active  intellectual  life  of  her  own. 
Mr.  Brezzi,  a  well-known  master  of  modern  lan- 
guages at  Coventry,  used  to  come  over  to  G-riff  regu- 
larly to  give  her  lessons  in  Italian  and  German. 
Mr.  M'Ewen,  also  from  Coventry,  continued  her 
lessons  in  music,  and  she  got  through  a  large  amount 
of  miscellaneous  reading  by  herself.  In  the  even- 
ings she  was  always  in  the  habit  of  playing  to  her 
father,  who  was  very  fond  of  music.  But  it  requires 
no  great  effort  of  imagination  to  conceive  that  this 
life,  though  full  of  interests  of  its  own,  and  the 
source  from  whence  the  future  novelist  drew  the 
most  powerful  and  the  most  touching  of  her  crea- 
tions, was,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  very  monotonous, 
very  difficult,  very  discouraging.  It  could  scarcely 
be  otherwise  to  a  young  girl,  with  a  full  passionate 
nature  and  hungry  intellect,  shut  up  in  a  farmhouse 
in  the  remote  country.  For  there  was  no  sympa- 
thetic human  soul  near  with  whom  to  exchange 
ideas  on  the  intellectual  and  spiritual  problems  that 

1  "  Mill  on  the  Floss,"  chap.  iii.  book  iv. 


26  Intellectual  Solitude.  [griff, 

were  beginning  to  agitate  her  mind.  "You  may 
try,  but  you  can  never  imagine  what  it  is  to  have 
a  man's  force  of  genius  in  you,  and  yet  to  suffer  the 
slavery  of  being  a  girl."  ^  This  is  a  point  of  view 
that  must  be  distinctly  recognised  by  any  one  at- 
tempting to  follow  the  development  of  George 
EUot's  character,  and  it  will  always  be  corrected  by 
the  other  point  of  view  which  she  has  made  so 
prominent  in  all  her  own  writing, —  the  soothing, 
strengthening,  sacred  influences  of  the  home  hfe, 
the  home  loves,  the  home  duties.  Circumstances 
in  later  life  separated  her  from  her  kindred,  but 
among  her  last  letters  it  will  be  seen  that  she  wrote 
to  her  brother  in  May,  1880,  that  "  our  long  silence 
has  never  broken  the  affection  for  you  which  began 
when  we  were  little  ones,"  ^ — and  she  expresses 
her  satisfaction  in  the  growing  prosperity  of  him- 
self and  all  his  family.  It  was  a  real  gratification 
to  her  to  hear  from  some  Coventry  friends  that  her 
nephew,  the  Rev.  Frederic  Evans,  the  present  Rector 
of  Bedworth,  was  well  spoken  of  as  a  preacher  in 
the  old  familiar  places,  and  in  our  last  summer  at 
Witley  we  often  spoke  of  a  visit  to  Warwickshire, 
that  she  might  renew  the  sweet  memories  of  her 
child-days.  No  doubt,  the  very  monotony  of  her 
life  at  Griff,  and  the  narrow  field  it  presented  for 
observation  of  society,  added  immeasurably  to  the 
intensity  of  a  naturally  keen  mental  vision,  concen- 
trating into  a  focus  what  might  perhaps  have  be- 
come dissipated  in  more  liberal  surroundings.  And 
though  the  field  of  observation  was  narrow  in  one 
sense,  it  included  very  various  grades  of  society. 
Such  fine  places  as  Arbury,  and  Packington,  the  seat 
of  Lord  Aylesford,  where  she  was  being  constantly 

^  "  Daniel  Deronda."  ^  gge  chap.  xix. 


1837.1  Social  Infiueiices.  27 

driven  "by  her  father,  affected  the  imagination  and 
accentuated  the  social  differences, — differences  which 
had  a  profound  significance  for  such  a  sensitive  and 
such  an  intellectually  commanding  character,  and 
which  left   their  mark  on  it. 

"  No  one  who  has  not  a  strong  natural  prompt- 
ing and  susceptibility  towards  such  things  [the  signs 
and  luxuries  of  ladyhood],  and  has,  at  the  same 
time,  suffered  from  the  presence  of  opposite  condi- 
tions, can  understand  how  powerfully  those  minor 
accidents  of  rank  which  please  the  fastidious  sense 
can  preoccupy  the  imagination."  ^ 

The  tone  of  her  mind  will  be  seen  from  the  let- 
ters written  during  the  following  years ;  and  I 
remember  once,  after  we  were  married,  when  I  was 
urging  her  to  write  her  autobiography,  she  said,  half 
sighing,  half  smiling :  "  The  only  thing  I  should  care 
much  to  dwell  on  would  be  the  absolute  despair  I 
suffered  from  of  ever  being  able  to  achieve  anything. 
No  one  could  ever  have  felt  greater  despair,  and  a 
knowledge  of  this  might  be  a  help  to  some  other 
struggler,"  —  adding  with  a  smile,  "  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  might  only  lead  to  an  increase  of  bad 
writing." 

1  "Felix  Holt,"  chap,  xxxviii. 


28  Summary.  [1837.] 


SUMMARY. 


NOVEMBER   22,    1819,    TO    END    OF    1837. 

Birth   at    Arbury    Farm  —  Baptism  —  Character    of    father  — 
His  first  marriage  and  children  —  Second  marriage  and  children 

—  llemoval  to  Griff  —  Events  at  time  of  birth- — Character  of 
coumry  about  Griff  —  Coach  communication  —  Father's   position 

—  Anecdotes  of  father — Character  of  mother  —  Mother's  family 
and  delicacy  —  Dame's  school  —  Companionship  with  brother  — 
Miss  Lathom's  school  at  Attleboro  —  Suiters  from  fear  —  Father's 
pet — Drives  with  him  —  First  books  read  —  First  journey  to 
Staffordshire  —  Miss  Wallington's  school  at  Nuneaton  —  Miss 
Lewis,  governess  —  Books  read  —  Religious  impressions  —  Charade 
acting — Miss  Franklin's  school  at  Coventry  —  Riot  at  Nuneaton 

—  First  letter  to  Miss  Lewis  —  Mother's  illness  —  Mother's  death 

—  Sister  Christiana  married  to  Mr.  Clarke — Relations  with 
brother  —  Housekeeper  at  Griff  —  Life  and  studies  there. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

In  the  foregoing  introductory  sketch,  I  have  en- 
deavoured to  present  the  influences  to  which  George 
Eliot  was  subjected  in  her  youth,  and  the  environ- 
ment in  which  she  grew  up ;  I  am  now  able  to 
begin  the  fulfilment  of  the  promise  on  the  title- 
page,  that  the  life  will  be  related  in  her  own  let- 
ters, —  or  rather  in  extracts  from  her  ow^n  letters, 
for  no  single  letter  is  printed  entire  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end.  I  have  not  succeeded  in 
obtaining  any  between  6th  January,  1836,  and 
18th  August,  1838 ;  but  from  the  latter  date  the 
correspondence  becomes  regular,  and  I  have  ar- 
ranged it  as  a  continuous  narrative,  with  the 
names  of  the  persons  to  whom  the  letters  are 
addressed  in  the  margin.  The  slight  thread  of 
narrative  or  explanation  which  I  have  written  to 
elucidate  the  letters,  where  necessary,  will  here- 
after occupy  an  inside  margin,  so  that  the  reader 
will  see  at  a  glance  what  is  narrative  and  what  is 
correspondence,  and  will  be  troubled  as  little  as 
possible  with  marks  of  quotation  or  changes  of 
type. 

The  following  opening  letter  of  the  series  to 

Miss   Lewis  describes  a  first  visit  to   London 

with  her  brother  :  — 
Let  me  tell  you,   though,   that  I  was   not  at  all  Mlsfiiwis, 
delighted  with  the  stir  of  the  great  Babel,  and  the  J^*^^"s- 
less  so,  probably,   owing  to  the  circumstances  at- 
tending my  visit  thither.     Isaac  and  I  went  alone 


30  First  Visit  to  London.  [griff, 

(that  seems  rather  Irish),  and  stayed  only  a  week, 
every  day  of  which  we  worked  hard  at  seeing 
sights.  I  think  Greenwich  Hospital  interested 
me  more  than  anything  else. 

Mr.  Isaac  Evans  himself  tells  me  that  what 
he  remembers  chiefly  impressed  her  was  the 
first  hearing  the  great  bell  of  St.  Paul's.  It 
affected  her  deeply.  At  that  time  she  was  so 
much  under  the  influence  of  religious  and 
ascetic  ideas  that  she  would  not  go  to  any  of 
the  theatres  with  her  brother,  but  spent  all  her 
evenings  alone  reading.  A  characteristic  rem- 
iniscence is  that  the  chief  thing  she  wanted 
to  buy  was  Josephus's  "  History  of  the  Jews ;  " 
and  at  the  same  bookshop  where  her  brother 
got  her  this,  he  bought  for  himself  a  pair  of. 
hunting  sketches.  In  the  same  letter,  alluding 
to  the  marriage  of  one  of  her  friends,  she 
says  :  — 
Letter  to  Foi  my  part,  when  I  hear  of  the  marrying  and 
18th  Aug.  '  giving  m  marriage  that  is  constantly  being  trans- 
^^"  acted,  I  can  only  sigh  for  those  who  are  multiply- 

ing earthly  ties  which,  though  powerful  enough  to 
detach  their  hearts  and  thoughts  from  heaven,  are 
so  brittle  as  to  be  liable  to  be  snapped  asunder  at 
every  breeze.  You  will  think  that  I  need  nothing 
but  a  tub  for  my  habitation  to  make  me  a  perfect 
female  Diogenes ;  and  I  plead  guilty  to  occasional 
misanthropical  thoughts,  but  not  to  the  indulgence 
of  them.  Still  I  must  believe  that  those  are  hap- 
piest who  are  not  fermenting  themselves  by  en- 
gaging in  projects  for  earthly  bliss,  who  are 
considering  this  life, merely  a  pilgrimage,  a  scene 
calling  for  diligence  and  watchfulness,  not  for 
repose  and  amusement.     I  do  not  deny  that  there 


1838.]  Desirability  of  Benunciation.  31 

may  be  many  who  can  partake  with  a  high  degree  Letter  to 
of  zest  of  all  the  lawful  enjoyments  the  world  can  isth  au^ 
offer,  and  yet  live  in  near  communion  with  their  ^^^' 
God,  —  who  can  warmly  love  the  creature,  and  yet 
be  careful  that  the  Creator  maintains  His  supre- 
macy in  their  hearts ;  but  I  confess  that  in  my 
short  experience  and  narrow  sphere  of  action  I 
have  never  been  able  to  attain  to  this.  I  find,  as 
Dr.  Johnson  said  respecting  his  wine,  total  absti- 
nence much  easier  than  moderation.  I  do  not 
wonder  you  are  pleased  with  Pascal ;  ^  his  thoughts 
may  be  returned  to  the  palate  again  and  again  with 
increasing  rather  than  diminished  relish.  I  have 
highly  enjoyed  Hannah  More's  letters:  the  con- 
templation of  so  blessed  a  character  as  hers  is  very 
salutary.  "  That  ye  be  not  slothful,  but  followers 
of  them  who,  through  faith  and  patience,  inherit 
the  promises,"  is  a  valuable  admonition.  I  was 
once  told  that  there  was  nothing  out  of  myself  to 
prevent  my  becoming  as  eminently  holy  as  St. 
Paul ;  and  though  I  think  that  is  too  sweeping  an 
assertion,  yet  it  is  very  certain  we  are  generally 
too  low  in  our  aims,  more  anxious  for  safety  than 
sanctity,  for  place  than  purity,  forgetting  that  each 
involves  the  other,  and  that,  as  Doddridge  tells 
us,  to  rest  satisfied  with  any  attainments  in  reli- 
gion is  a  fearful  proof  that  we  are  ignorant  of  the 
very  first  principles  of  it.  Oh  that  we  could  live 
only  for  eternity !  that  we  could  realise  its  near- 
ness !  I  know  you  do  not  love  quotations,  so  I 
will  not  give  you  one ;  but  if  you  do  not  distinctly 
remember  it,  do  turn  to  the  passage  in  Young's 
"Infidel  Eeclaimed, "   beginning,   "0  vain,    vain, 

^  Given  to  her  as  a  school  prize  when  she  was  fourteen :  see 
chap,  xviii. 


32 


Michaelmas  Guests. 


Tgriff, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
ISth  Aug. 
1838. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
Otli  Nov. 
1838. 


vain  all  else  eternity,"  and  do  love  the  lines  foi 
my  sake. 

I  really  feel  for  yoUj  sacrificing,  as  you  are,  your 
own  tastes  and  comforts  for  the  pleasure  of  others, 
and  that  in  a  manner  the  most  trying  to  rebellious 
flesh  and  blood ;  for  I  verily  believe  that  in  most 
cases  it  requires  more  of  a  martyr's  spirit  to  en- 
dure, with  patience  and  cheerfulnesSj  daily  cross- 
ings and  interruptions  of  our  petty  desires  and 
pursuits,  and  to  rejoice  in  them  if  they  can  be 
made  to  conduce  to  God's  glory  and  our  own 
sanctification,  than  even  to  lay  down  our  lives 
for  the  truth. 

I  can  hardly  repress  a  sort  of  indignation  towards 
second  causes.  That  your  time  and  energies  should 
be  expended  in  ministering  to  the  petty  interests 
of  those  far  beneath  you  in  all  that  is  really  ele- 
vating, is  about  as  hienseaiit  as  that  I  should  set 
fire  to  a  goodly  volume  to  light  a  match  by!  I 
have  had  a  very  unsettled  life  lately,  -^  Michael- 
mas with  its  onerous  duties  alid  anxieties,  much 
company  (for  us)  and  little  reading,  so  that  I  am 
ill  prepared  for  corresponding  with  profit  or  pleas- 
ure. I  am  generally  in  the  same  predicament 
with  books  as  a  glutton  with  his  feast,  hurrying 
through  one  course  that  I  ttiay  be  in  time  for  the 
next,  and  so  not  relishing  or  digesting  either;  not 
a  very  elegant  illustration,  hut  the  best  my  organs 
of  ideality  and  comparison  will  furnish  just  now. 

I  have  just  begun  the  life  of  Wilberforce,  and  I 
am  expecting  ft  rich  tteat  from  it.  There  is  a 
similarity,  if  I  may  compare  myself  With  such  a 
man,  between  his  temptations,  or  rather  besetments, 
and  my  own,  that  makes  his  experience  very  inter- 
esting to  me.      Oil  tliat  I  might  be  made  as  useful 


1838.]  Condemns  Oratorios.  S3 

in  my  lowly  and  obscure  station  as  he  was  in  the  Letter  to 
exalted  one  assigned  to  him !     I  feel  myself  to  be  cth  notT*^'' 
a  mere  cumberer  of   the  ground.     May  the   Lord  ^^^' 
give  me  such  an  insight  into  what  is  truly  good, 
that  I  may  not  rest  contented  with  making  Chris- 
tianity a  mere  addendum  to  my  pursuits,  or  with 
tacking  it  as  a  fringe  to  my  garments !     May  I 
seek     to   be    sanctified    wholly !      My   nineteenth 
birthday  will  soon  be  here  (the  22d),  —  an  awaken- 
ing  signal,      My  mind   has    been    much   clogged 
lately  by  languor  of  body,  to  which  I  am  prone  to 
give  way,  and  for  the   removal  of  which  I  shall 
feel  thankful. 

We  have  had  an  oratorio  at  Coventry  lately, 
Braham,  Phillips,  Mrs.  Kuyvett,  aud  Mrs.  Shaw, 
—  the  last,  I  think,  I  shall  attend.  I  am  not 
fitted  to  decide  on  the  question  of  the  propriety  or 
lawfulness  of  such  exhibitions  of  talent  and  so 
forth,  because  I  have  no  soul  for  music.  "  Happy 
is  he  that  condemneth  not  himself  in  that  thing 
which  he  alloweth. "  I  am  a  tasteless  person,  but 
it  would  not  cost  me  any  regrets  if  the  only  music 
heard  in  our  land  were  that  of  strict  worship,  nor 
can  I  think  a  pleasure  that  involves  the  devotion 
of  all  the  time  and  powers  of  an  immortal  being  to 
the  acquirement  of  an  expertness  in  so  useless  (at 
least  in  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred)  an 
accomplishment,  can  be  quite  pure  or  elevating  in 
its  tendency. 

The  above  remarks  on  oratorio  are  the  more 
surprising,  because  two  years  later,  when  Miss 
Evans  went  to  the  Birmingham  festival  in 
September,  1840,  previous  to  her  brother's 
marriage,  she  was  affected  to  an  extraordinary 
decree,  so  much  so  that  Mrs.  Isaac  Evans  —    . 

VOL.  1.  —  3 


34  WirJcsworih  Aunt.  [grifp, 

then  Miss  Eawlins  —  told  me  that  the  atten- 
tion of  people  sitting  near  was  attracted  by  her 
hysterical  sobbing.     And  in  all  her  later  life 
music  was  one  of  the  chiefest  delights  to  her, 
and  especially  oratorio. 
"  Not  that  her  enjoyment  of  music  was  of  the  kind 
that  indicates  a  great  specific  talent ;  it  was  rather 
that  her  sensibility  to  the  supreme  excitement  of 
music  was  only  one  form  of  that  passionate  sensi- 
bility which  belonged   to  her  whole    nature,  and 
made  her   faults    and  virtues    all    merge   in  each 
other,  —  made  her  affections  sometimes  an  impa- 
tient demand,  but  also  prevented  her  vanity  from 
taking  the  form  of   mere    feminine   coquetry  and 
device,  and  gave  it  the  poetry  of  ambition. "  ^ 

The  next  two  letters,  dated  from  Griff,  — • 
February  6th  and  March  5th,  1839,  —  are  ad- 
dressed to  Mrs.  Samuel  Evans,  a  Methodist 
preacher,  the  wife  of  a  younger  brother  of  Mr. 
Eobert  Evans.  They  are  the  more  interesting 
from  the  fact,  which  will  appear  later,  that  an 
anecdote  related  by  this  aunt  during  her  visit 
to  Griff  in  1839  was  the  germ  of  "  Adam  Bede. " 
To  what  extent  this  Elizabeth  Evans  resembled 
the  ideal  character  of  Dinah  Morris  will  also 
be  seen  in  its  place  in  the  history  of  "  Adam 
Bede. " 
Letter  to       I  am  SO  uuwilling  to  believe  that  you  can  forget 

Mrs.  Samuel  .  j.  ^      j_     ■         e  .• 

Kvaiis,  Gth  a  promise,  or  to  entertain  tears  respecting  your 
health,  that  I  persuade  myself  I  must  have  mis- 
taken the  terms  of  the  agreement  between  us,  and 
that  I  ought  to  have  sent  you  a  letter  before  I  con- 
sidered myself  entitled  to  one  from  Wirksworth. 

^  "Mill  on  the  Floss,"  chap.  v.  book  vi. 


Feb.  1839. 


1839.]  Religious  Experiences.  35 

However  this  may  be,  I  feel  so  anxious  to  hear  of  Letter  to 

,1,..  iijT  T  Mrs.  Samuel 

your  well-being  m  every  way,  that  i  can  no  longer  Evans, 6th 
rest  satisfied  without  using  my  only  means  of  ^^^'  ^^^' 
obtaining  tidings  of  you.  My  dear  father  is  not 
at  home  to-night,  or  I  should  probably  have  a 
message  of  remembrance  to  give  you  from  him  in 
addition  to  the  oood  news  that  he  is  as  well  as  he 
has  been  for  the  last  two  years,  and  even,  I  think, 
better,  except  that  he  feels  more  fatigue  after  exer- 
tion of  mind  or  body  than  formerly.  If  you  are 
able  to  fill  a  sheet,  I  am  sure  both  uncle  and  you 
would  in  doing  so  be  complying  with  the  precept, 
"  Lift  up  the  hands  that  hang  down,  and  strengthen 
the  feeble  knees. "  I  need  not  tell  you  that  this  is 
a  dry  and  thirsty  land,  and  I  shall  be  as  grateful 
to  you  for  a  draught  from  your  fresh  spring  as  the 
traveller  in  the  Eastern  desert  is  to  the  unknown 
hand  that  digs  a  well  for  him.  "  Unstable  as 
water,  thou  shalt  not  excel, "  seems  to  be  my  char- 
acter, instead  of  that  regular  progress  from  strength 
to  strength  that  marks,  even  in  this  world  of  mis- 
takes, the  people  that  shall  in  the  heavenly  Zion 
stand  before  God.  I  shall  not  only  suffer,  but  be 
delighted  to  receive,  the  word  of  exhortation,  and 
I  beg  you  not  to  withhold  it.  If  I  did  not  know 
how  little  you  need  human  help,  I  should  regret 
that  my  ignorance  and  want  of  deep  feeling  in 
spiritual  things  prevent  me  from  suggesting  profit- 
able or  refreshing  thoughts ;  but  I  daresay  I  took 
care  to  tell  you  that  my  desire  for  correspondence 
with  you  was  quite  one  of  self-interest. 

I  am  thankful  to  tell  you  that  my  dear  friends 
here  are  all  well.  I  have  a  faint  hope  that  the 
pleasure  and  profit  I  have  felt  in  your  society  may 
be  repeated  in  the  summer:  there  is  no  place  I 


36  Religious  Exjperiences.  [ghifp, 

would  rather  visit  than  Wirksworth,  or  the  in- 
habitants of  which  have  a  stronger  hold  on  my 
affections. 

In   the   next   letter    the   touch   about  Mrs. 
Fletcher's  life  is  characteristic. 
Letter  to       My  dear  father  is  just  now  so  plunged  in  business, 
Evans,Ttr    and  that  of  a  fatiguing   kind,  that  I  should  put 
March,  1839.  yQ^p  confidcnce   in   my  love  and  gratitude  to  an 
unreasonably  severe  trial  if  I  waited  until  he  had 
leisure  to  unite  with  me  in  filling  a  sheet.     You 
were  very  kind  to  remember  my  wish  to  see  Mrs. 
Fletcher's   life :    I    only    desire    such   a   spiritual 
digestion  as  has  enabled  you  to  derive  so  much 
benefit  from  its  perusal.      I  am  truly  glad  to  hear 
that  you  are  less  embarrassed  with  respect  to  your 
congregation,   &c. ,   than   you  were    when  we    saw 
you.      I  must  protest  against  your  making  apolo- 
gies  for   speaking    of   yourself,    for   nothing    that 
relates  to  you  can  be  uninteresting  to  me. 

The  unprofitableness  you  lament  in  yourself, 
during  your  visit  to  us,  had  its  true  cause,  not  in 
your  lukewarmness,  but  in  the  little  improvement 
I  sought  to  derive  from  your  society,  and  in  my 
lack  of  humility  and  Christian  simplicity,  that 
makes  me  willing  to  obtain  credit  for  greater 
knowledge  and  deeper  feeling  than  I  really  pos- 
sess. Instead  of  putting  ray  light  under  a  bushel, 
I  am  in  danger  of  ostentatiously  displaying  a  false 
one.  You  have  much  too  high  an  opinion,  my 
dear  aunt,  of  my  spiritual  condition,  and  of  my 
personal  and  circumstantial  advantages.  My  soul 
seems  for  weeks  together  completely  benumbed ; 
and  when  I  am  aroused  from  this  torpid  state,  the 
intervals  of  activity  are  comparatively  short.  I 
am  ever  finding  excuses  for  this  in  the  deprivation 


1839.]  Objections  to  Fiction  Beading.  37 

of  outward  excitement  and  the  small  scope  I  have  Letter  to 
for  the   application  of   my  principles,   instead    of  Evans,"^h^ 
feeling    self-abasement    under    the    consciousness 


March.  1839. 


o 


that  I  abuse  precious  hours  of  retirement  which 
would  be  eagerly  employed  in  spiritual  exercises 
by  many  a  devoted  servant  of  God  who  is  strug- 
gling with  worldly  cares  and  occupations.  I  feel 
that  my  besetting  sin  is  the  one  of  all  others  most 
destroying,  as  it  is  the  fruitful  parent  of  them  all, 
—  ambition,  a  desire  insatiable  for  the  esteem  of 
my  fellow-creatures.  This  seems  the  centre  whence 
all  my  actions  proceed.  But  you  will  perhaps 
remember,  my  dear  aunt,  that  I  do  not  attach 
much  value  to  a  disclosure  of  religious  feelings, 
owing  probably  to  the  dominant  corruption  I  have 
just  been  speaking  of,  which  "  turns  the  milk  of 
my  good  purpose  all  to  curd.  " 

On  16th  March,   1839,   in  a  letter  to  Miss 
Lewis,    there   is   a   reference   to  good   spirits, 
which  is  of  the  rarest  occurrence  all  through 
the  correspondence :  — 
I  am  this  morning  hardly  myself,   owing   to  the  Letter  to 
insuppressible  rising  of  my  animal  spirits  on  a  ^.th  March, 
deliverance  from  sick  headache ;  —  ^^^• 

and  then  the  letter  continues  as  to  the  expedi- 
ency of  reading  works  of  fiction,  in  answer  to  a 
question  Miss  Lewis  had  asked  :  — 
I  put  out  of  the  question  all  persons  of  perceptions 
so  quick,  memories  so  eclectic  and  retentive,  and 
minds  so  comprehensive,  that  nothing  less  than 
omnivorous  reading,  as  Southey  calls  it,  can  satisfy 
their  intellectual  man;  for  (if  I  may  parody  the 
words  of  Scripture  without  profaneness)  they  will 
gather  to  themselves  all  facts,  and  heap  unto 
themselves  all  ideas.     For  such  persons  we  cannot 


38  Bad  Effect  of  Novels.  [griff. 

Letter  to      legislate.     Again,  I  would  put  out  of  the  question 
iGth  March,  Standard  works,  whose  contents  are  matter  of  con- 

1839 

stant  reference,  and  the  names  of  whose  heroes 
and  heroines  briefly,  and  therefore  conveniently, 
describe  characters  and  ideas :  such  are  "  Don 
Quixote,"  Butler's  "  Hudibras,"  "  Eobinson  Crusoe," 
"  Gil  Bias,"  Byron's  Poetical  Eomances,  Southey's 
ditto,  &c.  Such,  too,  are  Walter  Scott's  novels 
and  poems.  Such  allusions  as  "  He  is  a  perfect 
Dominie  Sampson,"  "  He  is  as  industrious  in  find- 
ing out  antiquities,  and  about  as  successful,  as 
Jonathan  Oldbuck, "  are  likely  to  become  so  com- 
mon in  books  and  conversation,  that,  always  'pro- 
viding our  leisure  is  not  circumscribed  by  duty 
within  narrow  bounds,  we  should,  I  think,  qualify 
ourselves  to  understand.  Shakspeare  has  a  higher 
claim  than  this  on  our  attention ;  but  we  have 
need  of  as  nice  a  power  of  distillation  as  the  bee, 
to  suck  nothing  but  honey  from  his  pages.  How- 
ever, as  in  life  we  must  be  exposed  to  malign  in- 
fluences from  intercourse  with  others  if  we  would 
reap  the  advantages  designed  for  us  by  making  us 
social  beings,  so  in  books.  Having  cleared  our 
way  of  what  would  otherwise  have  encumbered  us, 
I  would  ask  why  is  one  engaged  in  the  instruction 
of  youth  to  read,  as  a  purely  conscientious  and 
self-denying  performance  of  duty,  works  whose 
value  to  others  is  allowed  to  be  doubtful  ?  I  can 
only  imagine  two  shadows  of  reasons.  Either 
that  she  may  be  able  experimentally  to  decide  on 
their  desirableness  for  her  pupils,  or  else  that 
there  is  a  certain  power  exerted  by  them  on  tlie 
mind  that  would  render  lier  a  more  efficient 
"  tutress  "  by  their  perusal.  I  would  not  depre- 
ciate the  disinterestedness  of  those  who  will  make 


i839.]  Danger  of  Imitation,  39 

trial  of  the  effect  on  themselves  of  a  cup  suspected  Letter  to 
poisonous,  that  they  may  deter  another  from  risk-  uirhMlrch^ 
ing  life ;  but  it  appears  to  me  a  work  of  superero-  ^^^^' 
gation,  since  there  are  enough  witnesses  to  its 
baneful  effect  on  themselves  already  to  put  an  end 
to  all  strife  in  the  matter.  The  Scriptural  declara- 
tion, "  As  face  answereth  to  face  in  a  glass,  so  the 
heart  of  man  to  man, "  will  exonerate  me  from  the 
charge  of  uncharitableness,  or  too  high  an  estima- 
tion of  myself,  if  I  venture  to  believe  that  the 
same  causes  which  exist  in  my  own  breast  to  ren- 
der novels  and  romances  pernicious,  have  their 
counterpart  in  that  of  every  fellow-creature.  I 
am,  I  confess,  not  an  impartial  member  of  a  jury 
in  this  case ;  for  I  owe  the  culprits  a  grudge  for 
injuries  inflicted  on  myself.  When  I  was  quite 
a  little  child,  I  could  not  be  satisfied  with  the 
things  around  me :  I  was  constantly  living  in  a 
world  of  my  own  creation,  and  was  quite  con- 
tented to  have  no  companions,  that  I  might  be 
left  to  my  own  musings,  and  imagine  scenes  in 
which  I  was  chief  actress.  Conceive  what  a  char- 
acter novels  would  give  to  these  Utopias.  I  was 
early  supplied  with  them  by  those  who  kindly 
sought  to  gratify  my  appetite  for  reading,  and  of 
course  I  made  use  of  the  materials  they  supplied 
for  building  my  castles  in  the  air.  But  it  may 
be  said,  "  No  one  ever  dreamed  of  recommending 
children  to  read  them :  all  this  does  not  apply  to 
persons  come  to  years  of  discretion,  whose  judg- 
ments are  in  some  degree  matured. "  I  answer 
that  men  and  women  are  but  children  of  a  larger 
growth  :  they  are  still  imitative  beings.  We  can- 
not (at  least  those  who  ever  read  to  any  purpose  at 
all),  —  we  cannot,  I  say,  help  being  modified  by 


40  Hurtful  Novels.  [griff, 

Letter  to  the  ideas  that  pRss  through  our  minds.  We  hardly 
lethMaxch,  wish  to  lay  claim  to  such  elasticity  as  retains  no 
^^^^'  impress.     We  are  active  beings  too.     We  are  each 

one  of  the  dramatis  personce  in  some  play  on  the 
stage  of  Life ;  hence  our  actions  have  their  share 
in  the  effects  of  our  reading.  As  to  the  discipline 
our  minds  receive  from  the  perusal  of  fictions,  I 
can  conceive  none  that  is  beneficial  but  may  be 
attained  by  that  of  history.  It  is  the  merit  of  fic- 
tions to  come  within  the  orbit  of  probability  :  if 
unnatural,  they  would  no  longer  please.  If  it  be 
said  the  mind  must  have  relaxation,  "  Truth  is 
strange, — stranger  than  fiction."  When  a  per- 
son has  exhausted  the  wonders  of  truth,  there  is 
no  other  resort  than  fiction ;  till  then,  I  cannot 
imagine  how  the  adventures  of  some  phantom, 
conjured  up  by  fancy,  caij  be  more  entertaining 
than  the  transactions  of  real  specimens  of  human 
nature  from  which  we  may  safely  draw  inferences. 
I  daresay  Mr.  James's  "  Huguenot  "  would  be  rec- 
ommended as  giving  an  idea  of  the  times  of  which 
he  writes ;  but  as  well  may  one  be  recommended  to 
look  at  landscapes  for  an  idea  of  English  scenery. 
The  real  secret  of  the  relaxation  talked  of  is  one 
that  would  not  generally  be  avowed ;  but  an  ap- 
petite that  wants  seasoning  of  a  certain  kind  can- 
not be  indicative  of  health.  Religious  novels  are 
more  hateful  to  me  than  merely  worldly  ones : 
they  are  a  sort  of  centaur  or  mermaid,  and,  like 
other  monsters  that  we  do  not  know  how  to  class, 
should  be  destroyed  for  the  public  good  as  soon  as 
born.  The  weapons  of  the  Christian  warfare  were 
never  sharpened  at  the  forge  of  romance.  Domestic 
fictions,  as  they  come  more  within  the  range  of 
imitation,  seem  more  dangerous.     For  my  part,  I 


18^9.]  Religious  Controversies.  41 

am  ready  to  sit  down  and  weep  at  the  impossi- 
bility of  my  understanding  or  barely  knowing  a 
fraction  of  the  sum  of  objects  that  present  them- 
selves for  our  contemplation  in  books  and  in  life. 
Have  I,  then,  any  time  to  spend  on  things  that 
never  existed  ? 

You  allude  to  the  religious,  or  rather  irreligious,  Letter  to 

.  r       j_  •        Miss  Lewis, 

contentions  that  form  so  prominent  a  feature  m  'jothMay, 

•  •      i83y 

the  aspect  of  public  affairs,  —  a  subject,  you  will 

perhaps  be  surprised  to  hear  me  say,  full  of  inter- 
est to  me,  and  on  which  I  am  unable  to  shape  an 
opinion  for  the  satisfaction  of  my  mind.  I  think 
no  one  feels  more  difficulty  in  coming  to  a  decision 
on  controverted  matters  than  myself.  I  do  not 
mean  that  I  have  not  preferences ;  but,  however 
coQgruous  a  theory  may  be  with  my  notions,  I 
cannot  find  that  comfortable  repose  that  others 
appear  to  possess  after  having  made  their  election 
of  a  class  of  sentiments.  The  other  day  Mon- 
taigne's motto  came  to  my  mind  (it  is  mentioned 
by  Pascal)  as  an  appropriate  one  for  me,  — "  Que 
sais-je  ?  "  — beneath  a  pair  of  balances,  though,  by 
the  by,  it  is  an  ambiguous  one,  and  may  be  taken 
in  a  sense  that  I  desire  to  reprobate,  as  well  as  in 
a  Scriptural  one  to  which  I  do  not  refer.  I  use  it 
in  a  limited  sense  as  a  representation  of  my  oscil- 
lating judgment.  On  no  subject  do  I  veer  to  all 
points  of  the  compass  more  frequently  than  on  the 
nature  of  the  visible  Church.  I  am  powerfully 
attracted  in  a  certain  direction,  but  when  I  am 
about  to  settle  there,  counter-assertions  shake  me 
from  my  position.  I  cannot  enter  into  details, 
but  when  we  are  together  I  will  tell  you  all  my 
difficulties,  —  that  is,  if  you  will  be  kind  enough 
to  listen.     I  have  been  reading  the  new  prize  essay 


1839, 


42  Bcligiuus  Conti'oversies.  [gkiff, 

Letter  to  Oil  "  Schism  "  by  Professor  Hoppus  and  Milner's 
20th  Ma^^'  "  Church  History  "  since  I  last  wrote  to  you :  the 
former  ably  expresses  the  tenets  of  those  who  deny 
that  any  form  of  Church  government  is  so  clearly 
dictated  in  Scripture  as  to  possess  a  divine  right, 
and,  consequently,  to  be  binding  on  Christians; 
the  latter,  you  know,  exhibits  the  views  of  a 
moderate  Evangelical  Episcopalian  on  the  infer- 
ences to  be  drawn  from  ecclesiastical  remains. 
He  equally  repudiates  the  loud  assertion  of  a  Jus 
divinum,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  separatists  from 
the  visible  Church,  though  he  calmly  maintains 
the  superiority  of  the  evidence  in  favour  of  Episco- 
pacy, of  a  moderate  kind  both  in  power  and  extent 
of  diocese,  as  well  as  the  benefit  of  a  national 
establishment.  I  have  been  skimming  the  "  Por- 
trait of  an  English  Churchman  "  by  the  Eev.  W. 
Gresley  :  this  contains  an  outline  of  the  system  of 
those  who  exclaim  of  the  Anglican  Church  as  the 
Jews  did  of  their  sacred  building  (that  they  do  it 
in  as  reprehensible  a  spirit  I  will  not  be  the 
judge),  "  the  temple  of  the  Lord,  the  temple  of  the 
Lord,  the  temple  of  the  Lord  "  is  exclusively 
theirs ;  while  the  authors  of  the  Oxford  Tracts  go 
a  step  farther,  and  evince  by  their  compliments  to 
Eome,  as  a  dear  though  erring  sister,  and  their 
attempts  to  give  a  Romish  colour  to  our  ordi- 
nance, with  a  very  confused  and  unscriptural 
statement  of  the  great  doctrine  of  justification,  a 
disposition  rather  to  fraternise  with  the  members 
of  a  Churcli  carrying  on  her  brow  the  prophetical 
epithets  applied  by  St.  John  to  the  Scarlet  beast, 
the  mystery  of  Iniquity,  than  with  pious  Noncon- 
formists. It  is  true  they  disclaim  all  this,  and 
that  their  opinions  are  seconded  by  the  extensive 


18;J9.]  First  Authorship.  43 

learuing,    the  laborious  zeal,   and  the  deep  devo-  Letter  to 

tion  of  those  who  propagate  them  ;  but  a  reference  20th  May,  ' 

to  facts  will  convince  us  that  such  has  generally 

been  the  character   of   heretical   teachers.      Satan 

is  too  crafty  to  commit  his  cause  into  the  hands 

of  those  who  have  nothing   to   recommend   them 

to  approbation.     According  to  their  dogmas,   the 

Scotch  Church  and  the  foreign  Protestant  Churches, 

as  well  as  the  non-Episcopalians  of  our  own  land, 

are  wanting  in  the  essentials  of  existence  as  part 

of  the  Church. 

In  the  next  letter  there  is  the  first  allusion 
to  authorship,    but,   from   the  wording  of  the 
sentence,   the  poem  referred  to  has  evidently 
not  been  a  first  attempt. 
I  send  you  some  doggerel  lines,  the  crude  fruit  of  Letter  to 

Miss  Lewis 

a  lonely  walk  last  evening,  when  the  words  of  one  i7th  juiy, ' 

1839 

of  our  martyrs  occurred  to  me..  You  must  be  ac- 
quainted with  the  idiosyncrasy  of  my  authorship, 
which  is,  that  my  effusions,  once  committed  to 
paper,  are  like  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians, 
that  alter  not. 

"  '  Knowing  that  shortly  I  must  put  off  this  my  tabernacle.'' 
2  Peter  i.  14. 

"  As  o'er  the  fields  by  evening's  light  I  stray, 
I  hear  a  still  small  whisper,  —  Come  away ; 
Thou  must  to  this  bright,  lovely  world  soon  say 

Farewell ! 

"The  mandate  I'd  obey,  my  lamp  prepare, 
Gird  up  my  garments,  give  my  soul  to  pray'r, 
And  say  to  earth,  and  all  that  breatlie  earth's  air, 

Farewell ! 

**  Thou  sun,  to  whose  parental  beam  I  owe 
All  that  has  gladdeu'd  me  while  here  below, 
Moon,  stars,  and  covenant-confirming  bow, 

Farewell  I 


44  Poem  in  "Christian  Observer r  [gkiff, 

"  Ye  verdant  meads,  fair  blossoms,  stately  trees, 
Sweet  song  of  birds  and  soothing  hum  of  bees, 
Refreshing  odours  wafted  on  the  breeze, 

Farewell ! 

"  Ye  patient  servants  of  creation's  Lord, 
Whose  miglity  strength  is  govern'd  by  His  word. 
Who  raiment,  food,  and  help  in  toil  afford, 

Farewell ! 

"  Books  that  have  been  to  me  as  chests  of  gold, 
Which,  miserlike,  I  secretly  have  told, 
And  for  them  love,  health,  friendship,  j^eace  have  sold, 

Farewell ! 

"  Blest  volume  !  whose  clear  truth-writ  page  once  known, 
Fades  not  before  heaven's  sunshine  or  hell's  moan. 
To  thee  I  say  not,  of  earth's  gifts  alone, 

Farewell ! 

"  There  shall  my  new-born  senses  find  new  joy, 
New  sounds,  new  sights  my  eyes  and  ears  employ, 
Nor  fear  that  word  that  here  brings  sad  alloy. 

Farewell ! " 

I  had  a  dim  recollection  that  my  wife  had 
told  me  that  this  poem  had  been  printed  some- 
where. After  a  long  search,  I  found  it  in  the 
"Christian  Observer"  for  January,  1840.  The 
version  there  published  has  the  two  following 
additional  verses,  and  is  signed  "  M.  A.  E." 

"  Ye  feebler,  freer  tribes  that  people  air, 
Ye  gaudy  insects,  making  buds  your  lair, 
Ye  that  in  water  shine  and  frolic  there, 

Farewell ! 

"  Dear  kindred  whom  the  Lord  to  me  has  given. 
Must  the  strong  tie  that  l)inds  us  now  1)0  riven  ? 
No  !  say  I  —  only  till  we  meet  in  heaven, 

Farewell ! " 

The  editor  of  the  "Christian  Observer"  has 
added  this  note :  "  We  do  not  often  add  a  note 


1839.]  Various  Beading.  45 

to  a  poem  :  but  if  St.  John  found  no  temple  in 
the  New  Jerusalem,  neither  will  there  be  any 
need  of  a  Bible ;  for  we  shall  not  then  see 
through  a  glass  darkly,  —  through  the  veil  of 
Sacraments  or  the  written  Word,  —  but  face  to 
face.  The  Bible  is  God's  gift,  but  not  for 
heaven's  use.  Still  on  the  very  verge  of  heaven 
we  may  cling  to  it,  after  we  have  bid  farewell 
to  everything  earthly ;  and  this  perhaps  is  what 
M.  A.  E.  means." 

In  the  following  letter  we  already  see  the 
tendency  to  draw  illustrations  from  science :  — 
I  have  lately  led  so  unsettled  a  life,  and  have  been  Letter  to 
so  desultory  in  my  employments,  that  my  mmd,  4^  s^tT''' 
never  of  the  most  highly  organised  genus,  is  more  ^^^^' 
than  usually  chaotic ;  or  rather  it  is  like  a  stratum 
of  conglomerated  fragments,  that  shows  here  a  jaw 
and  rib  of  some  ponderous  quadruped,  there  a  deli- 
cate alto-relievo  of  some  fern-like  plant,  tiny  shells, 
and  mysterious  nondescripts  encrusted  and  united 
with  some  unvaried  and  uninteresting  but  useful 
stone.  My  mind  presents  just  such  an  assemblage 
of  disjointed  specimens  of  history,  ancient  and 
modern ;  scraps  of  poetry  picked  up  from  Shak- 
speare,  Cowper,  Wordsworth,  and  Milton ;  news- 
paper topics ;  morsels  of  Addison  and  Bacon,  Latin 
verbs,  geometry,  entomology,  and  chemistry  ;  Ee- 
views  and  metaphysics,  —  all  arrested  and  ]3etrified 
and  smothered  by  the  fast-thickening  every-day 
accession  of  actual  events,  relative  anxieties,  and 
household  cares  and  vexations.  How  deplorably 
and  unaccountably  evanescent  are  our  frames  of 
mind,  as  various  as  the  forms  and  hues  of  the  sum- 
mer clouds !  A  single  word  is  sometimes  enough 
to  give  an  entirely  new  mould  to  our  thoughts,  —  at 


46 


Buys  Wordsworth's  Poems. 


[' 


GRIFF 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
4th  Sept. 
1839. 


Ijetter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
2'2d  Nov. 
1839. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
23d  Marrh, 
J840, 


least  I  find  myself  so  constituted ;  and  therefore  to 
me  it  is  pre-eminently  important  to  be  anchored 
within  the  veil,  so  that  outward  things  may  be  un- 
able to  send  me  adrift.  Write  to  me  as  soon  as 
you  can.  Remember  Michaelmas  is  coming,  and  I 
shall  be  engaged  in  matters  so  nauseating  to  me 
that  it  will  be  a  charity  to  console  me ;  to  reprove 
and  advise  me  no  less. 

I  have  emerged  from  the  slough  of  domestic 
troubles,  or  rather,  to  speak  quite  clearly,  "  mal- 
heurs  de  cuisine,"  and  am  beginning  to  take  a  deep 
breath  in  my  own  element,  though  with  a  mortify- 
ing consciousness  that  my  faculties  have  become 
superlatively  obtuse  during  my  banishment  from  it. 
I  have  been  so  self-indulgent  as  to  possess  myself 
of  Wordsworth  at  full  length,  and  I  thoroughly  like 
much  of  the  contents  of  the  first  three  vols.,  which 
I  fancy  are  only  the  low  vestibule  of  the  three 
remaining  ones.  I  never  before  met  with  so  many 
of  my  own  feelings  expressed  just  as  I  could  like 
them.  The  distress  of  the  lower  classes  in  our 
neighbourhood  is  daily  increasing  from  the  scarcity 
of  employment  for  weavers,  and  I  seem  sadly  to 
have  handcuffed  myself  by  unnecessary  expenditure. 
To-day  is  my  20th  birthday. 

This  allusion  to  Wordsworth  is  interesting, 
as  it  entirely  expresses  tlie  feeling  slie  liad  to 
him  up  to  the  day  of  her  death.  One  of  the 
very  last  books  we  read  together  at  Cheyne 
Walk  was  Mr.  Frederick  Myers's  "  Wordsworth  " 
in  the  "English  Men  of  Letters,"  which  she 
heartily  enjoyed. 
I  have  just  received  my  second  lesson  in  CJerman. 

I  know  you  will  be  glad  to  think  of  me  as 
thoroughly  employed,  as  indeed  I  am  to  an  extent 


i840.]  Flan  of  Chart  47 

that  makes  me  fear  I  shall  not  be  able  to  accom-  Letter  to 

plish  everything  well.     I  have  engaged,  if  possible,  m' May7' ' 

to     complete    the    Chart,^  the    plan    of    which    I  evelling"  ^^ 

sketched  out  last  year,  by  November  next,  and  I 

am  encouraged  to  believe  that  it  will  answer  my 

purpose  to  print  it.     The  profits  arising  from  its 

sale,  if  any,  will  go  partly  to  Attleboro  Church,  and 

partly  to  a  favourite  object  of  my  own.     Mrs.  New- 

digate  is  very  anxious  that  I  should  do  this,  and 

she  permits  me  to  visit  her  library  when  I  please, 

in  search  of  any  books  that  may  assist  me.     Will 

you  ask    Mr.    Craig   what  he    considers   the   best 

authority  for  the  date  of  the  apostolical  writings  ? 

I   should    like   to   carry   the   Chart   down   to   the 

Eeformation,  if  my  time  and  resources  will  enable 

me  to  do  so.     We  are  gomg  to  have  a  clothing  club, 

the  arrangement  and  starting  of  which  are  left  to 

me.     I  am  ashamed  to  run  the  risk  of  troubling 

you,  but  I  should  be  very  grateful  if  you  could 

send  me  an  abstract  of  the  rules  by  which  yours  is 

regulated. 

Our  house  is  now,  and  will  be  for  the  next  two  Letter  to 
months,  miserably  noisy  and  disorderly  with  the  2isTMay,  ' 
musical  operations  of  masons,  carpenters,  and  paint- 
ers. You  know  how  abhorrent  all  this  is  to  my 
tastes  and  feelings,  taking  all  the  spice  out  of  my 
favourite  little  epithet,  "  this  working-day  world  " : 
I  can  no  longer  use  it  figuratively.  How  impressive 
must  the  gradual  rise  of  Solomon's  Temple  have 
been !  each  prepared  mass  of  virgin  marble  laid  in 
reverential  silence.  I  fancy  Heber  has  compared  it 
to  the  growth  of  a  palm.  Your  nice  miniature 
chart,  which  I  shall  carefully  treasure  up,  has  quite 
satisfied  me  that  Dr.  Pearson  at  least  has  not  real- 

1  Of  ecclesiastical  history. 


48  Chart  of  Ecclesiastical  History.        [griff, 

Letter  to      ised  mv  conceptions,  though  it  has  left  me  still 

Miss  Lewis  . 

21st  May,  '  (luLious  as  to  my  own  power  of  doing  so.  I  will 
just  (if  you  can  bear  to  hear  more  of  the  matter) 
give  you  an  idea  of  the  plan,  which  may  have  partly 
faded  from  your  memory.  The  series  of  perpendic- 
ular columns  will  successively  contain  the  Koman 
emperors  with  their  dates,  the  political  and  reli- 
gious state  of  the  Jews,  the  Bishops,  remarkable  men 
and  events  in  the  several  Churches,  a  column  being 
devoted  to  each  of  the  chief  ones,  the  aspect  of 
heathenism  and  Judaism  towards  Christianity,  the 
chronology  of  the  Apostolical  and  Patristical  writ- 
ings, schisms  and  heresies,  General  Councils,  eras  of 
corruption  (under  which  head  the  remarks  would  be 
general),  and  I  thought  possibly  an  application  of 
the  apocalyptic  prophecies,  which  would  merely  re- 
quhe  a  few  figures  and  not  take  up  room,  I  think 
there  must  be  a  break  in  the  Chart,  after  the 
establishment  of  Christianity  as  the  religion  of  the 
empire,  and  I  have  come  to  a  determination  not 
to  carry  it  beyond  the  first  acknowledgment  of  the 
supremacy  of  the  Pope  by  Phocas  in  606,  when 
Mohammedanism  became  a  besom  of  destruction  in 
the  hand  of  the  Lord,  and  completely  altered  the 
aspect  of  ecclesiastical  history.  So  much  for  this  at 
present  airy  project,  about  which  I  hope  never  to 
tease  you  more.  Mr.  Harper  ^  lent  me  a  little 
time  ago  a  work  by  the  Rev.  W.  Gresley,  begging 
me  to  read  it,  as  he  thought  it  was  calculated  to 
make  me  a  proselyte  to  the  opinions  it  advocates. 
I  had  skimmed  the  book  before  ("  Portrait  of  an 
English  Churchman  "),  but  I  read  it  attentively  a 
second  time,  and  was  pleased  witli  the  spirit  of 
piety  that  breathes  throughout.     His  last  work  is 

1  The  Scjuire  of  Coton. 


1840.]  Religious  Controversies.  49 

one  in  a  similar  style  ("  The  English  Citizen  "),  which  Letter  to 
I  have  cursorily  read;  and  as  they  are  both  likely  to  2is?May,^ 
be  seen  by  you,  I  want  to  know  your  opinion  of 
them.  Mine  is  this :  that  they  are  sure  to  have  a 
powerful  influence  on  the  minds  of  small  readers 
and  shallow  thinkers,  as  from  the  simplicity  and 
clearness  with  which  the  author,  by  his  heau  ideal 
characters,  enunciates  his  sentiments,  they  furnish  a 
magazine  of  easily  wielded  weapons  for  ynorniiig- 
calling  and  evening-j)arty  controversialists,  as  well 
as  that  really  honest  minds  will  be  inclined  to 
think  they  have  found  a  resting-place  amid  the 
footballing  of  religious  parties.  But  it  appears  to 
me  that  there  is  unfairness  in  arbitrarily  selecting  a 
train  of  circumstances  and  a  set  of  characters  as  a 
development  of  a  class  of  opinions.  In  this  way 
we  might  make  atheism  appear  wonderfully  calcu- 
lated to  promote  social  happiness.  I  remember,  as 
I  daresay  you  do,  a  very  amiable  atheist  depicted 
by  Bulwer  in  "  Devereux ; "  and  for  some  time  after 
the  perusal  of  that  book,  which  I  read  seven  or 
eight  years  ago,  ^  I  was  considerably  shaken  by  the 
impression  that  religion  was  not  a  requisite  to 
moral  excellence. 

Have  you  not  alternating  seasons  of  mental  stag- 
nation and  activity  ?  —  just  such  as  the  political 
economists  say  there  must  be  in  a  nation's  pecu- 
niary condition,  —  all  one's  precious  specie,  time, 
going  out  to  procure  a  stock  of  commodities,  while 
one's  own  manufactures  are  too  paltry  to  be  worth 
vending.  I  am  just  in  that  condition,  —  partly,  I 
think,  owing  to  my  not  having  met  with  any  steel 
to  sharpen  my  edge  against  for  the  last  three  weeks. 

*  When  she  would  be  thirteen  years  old. 
TOL.  I.  —  4 


50  Oxford  Tracts  —  "Christian  Year."     [orifp, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
21st  May, 
1840. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
2t;th  May, 
1840. 


I  am  going  to  read  a  volume  of  the  Oxford  Tracts 
and  the  "  Lyra  Apostolica "  :  the  former  I  almost 
shrink  from  the  labour  of  connino-  but  the  other 
I  confess  I  am  attracted  towards  by  some  highly 
poetical  extracts  that  I  have  picked  up  in  various 
quarters.  I  have  just  bought  Mr.  Keble's  "  Chris- 
tian Year,"  a  volume  of  sweet  poetry  that  perhaps 
you  know.  The  fields  of  poesy  look  more  lovely 
than  ever,  now  I  have  hedged  myself  in  the  geome- 
trical regions  of  fact,  where  I  can  do  nothing  but 
draw  parallels  and  measure  differences  in  a  double 
sense. 

1  I  will  only  hint  that  there  seems  a  probability 
of  my  being  an  unoccupied  damsel,  of  my  being 
severed  from  all  the  ties  that  have  hitherto  given 
my  existence  the  semblance  of  a  usefulness  beyond 
that  of  making  up  the  requisite  quantum  of  animal 
matter  in  the  universe.  A  second  important  inti- 
mation respecting  my  worthy  self  is  one  that,  I 
confess,  I  impart  without  one  sigh,  though  perhaps 
you  will  think  my  callousness  discreditable.  It  is 
that  Seeley  &  Burnside  liave  just  publislied  a  Chart 
of  Ecclesiastical  History,  doubtless  giving  to  my 
airy, vision  a  local  liabitation  and  a  name.  I  console 
all  my  little  regrets  by  thinking  that  wliat  is  thus 
evidenced  to  be  a  desideratum  has  been  executed 
mucli  bettor  than  if  left  to  my  slow  fingers  and 
slower  head.  I  fear  T  am  laboriously  doing  noth- 
ing, for  T  am  beguiled  by  the  fascination  tliat  the 
study  of  languages  has  for  my  cnpricious  mind. 
I  could  e'en  give  myself  up  to  making  discoveries 
in  the  world  of  words. 

May  I  trouble  you  to  procure  for  me  an  Italian 
book  recommendo.d    Ity  Mr.  Brezzi,  Silvio  Pellico's 

1  Writteu  probably  in  view  of  ber  brother's  marriage. 


1840.]       "Faery  Queen "  and  "Don  Quixote.^'  51 

"  Le  mie  Prigioui "  —  if  not,  "  Storia  d'ltalia  "  ?     If  Letter  to 
they  are  cheap,   I  should  like  both.  in  Lon- 

I  shall  have,  I  hope,  a  little  trip  with  my  father  Wednesday, 
next  week  into  Derbyshire,  and  this  "  lark  "  will  ''""'•  '^''*- 
probably  be  beneficial  to  me ;  so  that  do  not  imagine 
I  am  inviting  you  to  come  and  hear  moaning,  when 
you  need  all  attainable  relaxation. 

Your  letter  greeted  me  last  night  on  my  arrival  Letter  to 
from  Staffordshire.  The  prospectus  of  Mr.  Henslow's  23d  June,  ^ 
work  is  as  marvellous  to  my  ignorant  concep- 
tions as  the  prophecies  of  the  wonders  of  the  steam- 
engine  would  have  been  to  some  British  worthy  in 
the  days  of  Caractacus.  I  can  only  gape  as  he 
would  probably  have  done.  I  hope  Mr.  H.  has  not 
imitated  certain  show-keepers,  who  give  so  exagger- 
ated a  representation  of  their  giantess,  on  the  out- 
side, that  the  spectators  have  disappointment  for 
their  cash  within. 

If  I  do  not  see  you,  how  shall  I  send  your  "  Don 
Quixote,"  which  I  hope  soon  to  finish  ?  I  have  been 
sadly  interrupted  by  other  books  that  have  taken 
its  scanty  allowance  of  time,  or  I  should  have  made 
better  haste  with  it.  Will  you  try  to  get  me  Spen- 
ser's "Faery  Queen"?  the  cheapest  edition,  with 
a  glossary,  which  is  quite  indispensable,  together 
with  a  clear  and  correct  type.  I  have  had  some 
treats  on  my  little  excursion,  not  the  least  of  which 
was  the  gazing  on  some  —  alljeit  the  smallest  —  of 
the  "  everlasting  hills,"  and  on  those  noblest  chil- 
dren of  the  earth  —  fine  healthy  trees  —  as  indepen- 
dent in  their  beauty  as  virtue :  set  them  where  you 
will,  they  adorn  and  need  not  adornment.  Father 
indulged  me  with  a  sight  of  Ashborne  Church,  the 
finest  mere  parish  church  in  tlie  kingdom,  —  in  the 
interior ;  of  Alton  Gardens,  where  I  saw  actually 


52 


Trip  to  Staffordshire. 


[griff, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
23d  June, 
1840. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
July,  Mon- 
day morn- 
ing, 1840. 


wha,t  I  have  often  seen  mentally,  —  the  bread-fruit 
tree,  the  fan-palm,  and  the  papyrus;  and  last,  of 
Lichfield  Cathedral,  where,  besides  the  exquisite 
architectural  beauties  both  external  and  internal, 
I  saw  Chantrey's  famous  monument  of  the  Sleeping 
Children.  There  is  a  tasteless  monument  to  the 
learned  and  brilliant  female  pedant  of  Lichfield, 
Miss  Seward,  with  a  poor  epitaph  by  Sir  Walter 
Scott.  In  the  town  we  saw  a  large  monument 
erected  to  Johnson's  memory,  showing  his  Titanic 
body,  in  a  sitting  posture,  on  the  summit  of  a 
pedestal  which  is  ornamented  with  bas-reliefs  of 
three  passages  in  his  life ;  his  penance  in  Uttoxe- 
ter  Market,  his  chairing  on  the  shoulders  of  his 
schoolmates,  and  his  listening  to  the  preaching  of 
Sacheverel.  The  statue  is  opposite  to  the  house 
in  which  Johnson  was  born,  —  altogether  inferior 
to  that  in  St.  Paul's,  which  shook  me  almost  as 
much  as  a  real  glance  from  the  literary  monarch. 
I  am  ashamed  to  send  you  so  many  ill-clothed 
nothings.  My  excuse  shall  be  a  state  of  head 
that  calls  for  four  leeches  before  I  can  attack 
Mrs.  Somerville's  "  Connection  of  the  Physical 
Sciences." 

I  write  with  a  very  tremulous  hand,  as  you  will 
perceive  :  both  this,  and  many  other  defects  in  my 
letter,  are  attributable  to  a  very  mighty  cause,  — 
no  other  than  the  boiling  of  currant  jelly  !  I  have 
had  much  of  this  kind  of  occupation  lately,  and  I 
grieve  to  say  I  have  not  gone  tlirough  it  so  cheer- 
fully as  the  character  of  a  Christian  who  professes 
to  do  all,  even  the  most  trifling,  duty  as  the  Lord 
demands.  My  mind  is  consequently  run  all  wild., 
and  bears  nothing  but  dog-roses.  I  am  truly 
obliged  to  you  for  getting  me  Spenser.     How  shall 


1840.]  Beads  Isaac  Taylor.  53 

I  send  to  you  "  Don  Quixote,"  which  I  have  quite 
finished  ? 

I  believe  it  is  decided  that  father  and  I  should  Letter  to 
leave  Griff  and  take  up  our  residence  somewhere  sth  Juiy^** 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Coventry,  if   we  can  ob-  ^^^' 
tain    a  suitable   house ;   and  this   is   at   present   a 
matter  of   anxiety.     So   you  see    I  am  likely  still 
to  have  a  home  where  I  can  independently  welcome 
you.     I  am  really  so  plunged  in  an  abyss  of  books, 
preserves,   and  sundry    important   trivialities,  that 
I  must  send  you  this  bare  proof  that  I  have  not 
cast  the  remembrance  of  you  to  a  dusty  corner  of 
my  heart.     Ever  believe  that  "  my  heart  is  as  thy 
heart,"  that  you  may  rely  on  me  as  a  second  self, 
and  that  I  shall,  with  my  usual  selfishness,  lose 
no  opportunity  of  gratifying  my  duplicate. 

The  Epistle  to  the  Colossians  is  pre-eminently  Letter  to 
rich  in  the  colouring  with  which  it  portrays  the  mh  aS^^ 
divine  fulness  contained  in  the  Saviour,  contrasted  ^^^' 
with  the  beggarly  elements  that  a  spirit  of  self- 
righteousness  would,  in  some  way,  mingle  with  the 
light  of  life,  the  filthy  rags  it  would  tack  round  the 
"  fine  raiment "  of  His  righteousness.  I  have  been 
reading  it  in  connection  with  a  train  of  thought  sug- 
gested by  the  reading  of  "  Ancient  Christianity  and 
the  Oxford  Tracts,"  by  Isaac  Taylor,  one  of  the  most 
eloquent,  acute,  and  pious  of  writers.  Five  numbers 
only  have  yet  appeared.  Have  you  seen  them  ?  If 
not,  I  should  like  to  send  you  an  abstract  of  his 
argument.  I  have  gulped  it  (pardon  my  coarseness) 
in  a  most  reptile-like  fashion.  I  must  chew  it 
thoroughly  to  facilitate  its  assimilation  with  my  men- 
tal frame.  When  your  pupils  can  relish  Church 
history,  I  venture  to  recommend  the  Chart  lately 
published  by  Seeley  &  Burnside,  —  far  superior  in 


64  Influence  of  Isaac  Taylor.  [griff, 

conception  to  mine,  as  being  more  compendious,  yet 
answering  the  purpose  of  presenting  epochs  as  nuclei 
round  which  less  important  events  instinctively 
cluster. 

Mrs.  John  Cash  of  Coventry,  who  was  then 
Miss  Mary  Sibree,  daughter  of  a  Nonconformist 
minister  there,  and  whose  acquaintance  Miss 
Evans  made  a  year  or  two  later  in  Coventry, 
writes  in  regard  to  this  book  of  Isaac  Taylor's : 
"  In  her  first  conversations  with  my  father  and 
mother,  they  were  much  interested  in  learning 
in  what  high  estimation  she  held  the  writings 
of  Isaac  Taylor.  My  father  thought  she  was  a 
little  disappointed  on  hearing  that  he  was  a  Dis- 
senter. She  particularly  enjoyed  his  '  Saturday 
Evening,'  and  spoke  in  years  after  to  me  of  his 
'  Physical  Theory  of  Another  Life,'  as  exciting 
thought  and  leading  speculation  further  than  he 
would  have  desired.  When  his  '  Ancient  Chris- 
tianity '  was  published  in  numbers.  Miss  Evans 
took  it  in,  and  kindly  forwarded  the  numbers  to 
us.  From  the  impression  made  on  my  own  mind 
by  unfavourable  facts  about  '  The  Fathers,'  and 
from  her  own  subsequent  references  to  this  work, 
I  am  inclined  to  think  it  had  its  influence  in 
unsettling  her  views  of  Christianity." 
Letter  to  I  have  thought  of  you  as  the  one  who  lias  ever  shown 
nthsf^tl*'  herself  so  capable  of  consideration  for  my  weakness 
and  sympathy  in  my  warm  and  easily  fastened  atl'ec- 
tions.  My  imagination  is  an  enemy  that  must  be 
cast  down  ere  I  can  enjoy  peace  or  exhibit  uniform- 
ity of  chnractcr.  I  know  not  which  of  its  caprices 
I  have  most  to  dread,  —  that  which  incites  it  to 
spread  sackcloth  "above,  below,  around,"  or  that 
which  makes  it  "  cheat  my  eye  with  blear  illusion. 


1840, 


1840.]  Shelley's  "Cloud"  55 

and  beget  strange  dreams"  of  excellence  and  beauty  Letter  to 
in  beings  and  things  of  only  working-day  price,  nths'ejt^ 
The  beautiful  heavens  that  we  have  lately  enjoyed  ^*'^" 
awaken  in  me  an  indescribable  sensation  of  exulta- 
tion in  existence,  and  aspiration  after  all  that  is 
suited  to  engage  an  immaterial  nature.  I  have  not 
read  very  many  of  Mr.  B.'s  poems,  nor  any  with 
much  attention.  I  simply  declare  my  determination 
not  to  feed  on  the  broth  of  literature  when  I  can 
get  strong  soup,  —  such,  for  instance,  as  Shelley's 
"  Cloud,"  the  five  or  six  stanzas  of  which  contain 
more  poetic  metal  than  is  beat  out  in  all  Mr.  B.'s 
pages.  You  must  know  I  have  had  bestowed  on  me 
the  very  pretty  cognomen  of  Clematis,  which,  in 
the  floral  language,  means  mental  beauty.  I  cannot 
find  in  my  heart  to  refuse  it,  though,  like  many 
other  appellations,  it  has  rather  the  appearance  of  a 
satire  than  a  compliment.  Addio  !  I  will  send 
your  floral  name  in  my  next,  when  I  have  received 
my  dictionary.  My  hand  and  mind  are  wearied 
with  wanting  four  pages  of  German  and  a  letter  of 
business. 

My  dear  Veronica,  —  which,  being  interpreted,  is  Letter  to 
fidelity  in  friendship,  —  Last  week  I  was  absent  iatoct?mo. 
from  home  from  AVednesday  to  Saturday,  in  quest 
of  the  "  coy  maiden  "  Pleasure  —  at  least  nomi- 
nally so,  the  real  motive  being  rather  to  gratify 
another's  feeling.^  I  heard  the  "  Messiah "  on 
Thursday  morning  at  Birmingham,  and  some  beau- 
tiful selections  from  other  oratorios  of  Handel  and 
Haydn  on  Friday.  With  a  stupid,  drowsy  sensa- 
tion, produced  by  standing  sentinel  over  damson 
cheese  and  a  warm  stove,  I  cannot  do  better  than 
ask  you  to  read,  if  accessible,  Wordsworth's  short 

1  Visit  to  Miss  Kawlins,  her  brother's  ^ancee. 


56  German  Translation.  [griff 

Letter  to  poem  Oil  the  "  Power  of  Sound,"  with  which  I 
utodt^iwo.  have  just  been  delighted.  I  have  made  an  altera- 
tion in  my  plans  with  Mr.  Brezzi,  and  shall  hence- 
forward take  Italian  and  German  alternately,  so 
that  I  shall  not  be  liable  to  the  consciousness  of 
having  imperative  employment  for  every  interstice 
of  time.  There  seems  a  greater  affinity  between 
German  and  my  mind  than  Italian,  though  less  new 
to  me,  possesses. 

I  am  reading  Schiller's  "  Maria  Stuart,"  and 
Tasso. 

I  was  pleased  with  a  little  poem  I  learnt  a  week 
or  two  ago  in  German  ;  and  as  I  want  you  to  like 
it,  I  have  just  put  the  idea  it  contains  into  English 
doggerel,  w^iich  quite  fails  to  represent  the  beauti- 
ful simplicity  and  nature  of  the  original,  but  yet,  I 
hope,  will  give  you  sufficiently  its  sense  to  screen  the 
odiousness  of  the  translation     Eccola  :  — 

QUESTION  AND  ANSWER. 

"'"Where  blooms,  O  my  father,  a  thornless  rose?  ' 
'  That  can  I  not  tell  thee,  my  child  ; 
Not  one  on  the  bosom  of  earth  e'er  grows, 

But  wounds  whom  its  charms  have  beguiled.' 

'  Would  I  'd  a  rose  on  my  bosom  to  lie, 
But  I  slirink  from  the  piercing  thorn : 

I  long,  but  I  dare  not  its  point  defy ; 
I  long,  and  I  gaze  forlorn.' 

'  Not  so,  0  my  child  —  round  the  stem  again 

Thy  resolute  fingers  entwine  ; 
Forego  not  the  joy  for  its  sister,  pain  — 

Let  the  rose,  the  sweet  rose,  be  thine.' " 

Would  not  n  parcel  reach  you  by  railway  ? 

This  is  the  first  allusion  to  the  new  means  of 
locomotion,  which  would,  no  doubt,  be  attract- 
ing much  interest  in    the   Griff  household,   as 


1840.]  Walled-ill  World.  57 

valuation  was  a  large  part  of  Mr.  Evans's  busi- 
ness. Long  years  after,  George  Eliot  wrote :  — 
"  Our  midland  plains  have  never  lost  their  familiar 
expression  and  conservative  spirit  for  me ;  yet  at 
every  other  mile,  since  I  first  looked  on  them,  some 
sign  of  world-wide  change,  some  new  direction  of 
human  labour,  has  wrought  itself  into  what  one 
may  call  the  speech  of  the  landscape.  .  .  .  There 
comes  a  crowd  of  burly  navvies  with  pickaxes  and 
barrows,  and  while  hardly  a  wrinkle  is  made  in 
the  fadinsT  mother's  face  or  a  new  curve  of  health  in 
the  blooming  girl's,  the  hills  are  cut  through,  or  the 
breaches  between  them  spanned,  we  choose  our 
level,  and  the  white  steam-pennon  flies  along  it." 

My  only  reason  for  writing  is  to  obtain  a  timely  Letter  to 
promise  that  you  will  spend  your  holidays  chiefly  uTrhOctl"^' 
with  me,  that  we  may  once  more  meet  among  scenes  ^^^' 
which,  now  I  am  called  on  to  leave  them,  I  find  to 
have  grown  in  to  my  affections.  Carlyle  says  that 
to  the  artisans  of  Glasgow  the  world  is  not  one  of 
blue  skies  and  a  green  carpet,  but  a  world  of  cop- 
peras-fumes, low  cellars,  hard  wages,  "  striking,"  and 
whiskey ;  and  if  the  recollection  of  this  picture  did 
not  remind  me  that  gratitude  should  be  my  reservoir 
of  feeling,  that  into  which  all  that  comes  from  above 
or  around  should  be  received  as  a  source  of  fertilisa- 
tion for  my  soul,  I  should  give  a  lachrymose  parody 
of  the  said  description,  and  tell  you  ail-seriously 
what  I  now  tell  you  playfully,  that  mine  is  too 
often  a  world  such  as  Wilkie  can  so  well  paint, — 
a  walled-in  world  furnished  with  all  the  details 
which  he  remembers  so  accurately,  and  the  least 
interesting  part  thereof  is  often  what  I  suppose 
must  be  designated  the  intelligent ;  but  I  deny  that 
it  has  even  a  comparative  claim  to  the  appellation, 


IS-W. 


58  Social  Dangers.  [griff, 

Letter  to  f  01  give  Hie  a  three-legged  stool,  and  it  will  call  up 
27th  oct"^'  associations  —  moral,  poetical,  mathematical  —  if  I 
do  but  ask  it,  while  some  human  beings  have  the 
odious  power  of  contaminating  the  very  images  that 
are  enshrined  as  our  soul's  arcana.  Their  baleful 
touch  has  the  same  effect  as  would  a  uniformity  in 
the  rays  of  light,  —  it  turns  all  objects  to  pale-lead 
colour.  Oh,  how  luxuriously  joyous  to  have  the  wind 
of  heaven  blow  on  one  after  being  stived  in  a  human 
atmosphere,  —  to  feel  one's  heart  leap  up  after  the 
pressure  that  Shakspeare  so  admirably  describes : 
"  When  a  man's  wit  is  not  seconded  by  the  forward 
chick  understanding,  it  strikes  a  man  as  dead  as  a 
large  reckoning  in  a  small  room."  But  it  is  time  I 
check  this  Byrunic  invective,  and,  in  doing  so,  I  am 
reminded  of  Corinne's,  or  rather  Oswald's,  reproof,  — 
"  La  vie  est  un  cojnbat,  pas  un  hymne."  We  should 
aim  to  be  like  a  plant  in  the  chamljer  of  sickness,  — 
dispensing  purifying  air  even  in  a  region  that  turns 
all  pale  its  verdure,  and  cramps  its  instinctive  pro- 
pensity to  expand.  Society  is  a  wide  nursery  of 
plants,  where  the  hundreds  decompose  to  nourish 
the  future  ten,  after  giving  collateral  benefits  to  their 
contemporaries  destined  for  a  fairer  garden.  An 
awful  thought !  one  so  heavy  that  if  our  souls  could 
once  sustain  its  whole  weight,  or  rather  if  its  whole 
weight  were  once  to  drop  on  them,  they  would 
break  and  burst  their  tenements.  How  long  will 
this  continue  ?  The  cry  of  the  martyrs  heard  by 
St,  John  finds  an  echo  in  every  heart  that,  like  Solo- 
mon's, groans  under  "the  outrage  and  oppression 
with  which  earth  is  filled."  Events  are  now  so 
momentous,  and  the  elements  of  society  in  so  chem- 
ically critical  a  state,  that  a  drop  seems  enough  to 
change  its  whole  form. 


1840.]  Sensitiveness.  59 

I  am  reading  Harris's  "  Great  Teacher,"  and  am  Letter  to 
innig  hewegt,  as  a  German  would  say,  by  its  stirring  27th  Oct.  ^ 
eloquence,  which  leaves  you  no  time  or  strength  for  ^*^' 
a  cold  estimate  of  the  writer's  strict  merits.  I  wish 
I  could  read  some  extracts  to  you.  Isaac  Taylor's 
work  is  not  yet  complete.  When  it  is  so,  I  hope  to 
reperuse  it.  Since  I  wrote  to  you  I  have  had  Aim€ 
Martin's  work,  "  L'Educatiou  des  Mferes,"  lent  to 
me,  and  I  have  found  it  to  be  the  real  Greece 
whence  "  Woman's  Mission  "  has  only  imported  to 
us  a  few  marbles  —  but!  Martin  is  a  soi-disant  ra- 
tional Christian,  if  I  mistake  him  not.  I  send  you 
an  epitaph  which  he  mentions  on  a  tomb  in  Paris, 
—  that  of  a  mother :  "  Dors  en  paix,  0  ma  m^re ; 
ton  fils  t'obeira  toujours."  I  am  reading  eclectically 
Mrs.  Hemans's  poems,  and  venture  to  recommend 
to  your  perusal,  if  unknown  to  you,  one  of  the 
longest  ones,  — "  The  Forest  Sanctuary."  I  can 
give  it  my  pet  adjective,  —  Exquisite. 

I   have  adopted   as  my   motto,  — "  Cerium  pete 
finem"  —  Seek  a  sure  end.^ 

Come  when  you  would  best  like  to  do  so  :  if  my  Letter  to 
heart  beat  at  all  at  the  time,  it  will  be  with  a  more  5th  Deo!™* 
rapid  motion  than  the  general,  from  the  joy  of  see-  ^^^' 
ing  you.     I  cannot  promise  you  more  than  calmness 
when  that  flush  is  past,  for  I  am  aweary,  aweary  — 
longing  for  rest,  which  seems  to  fly  from  my  very 
anticipations.      But  this    wrought-up  sensitiveness 
which  makes  me  shrink  from  all  contact  is,  I  know, 
not  for  communication  or  sympathy,  and  is,  from 
that  very  character,  a  kind  of  trial  best  suited  for 
me.      Whatever   tends    to   render  us    ill-contented 
with  ourselves,  and   more  earnest   aspirants   after 

1  By  a  curious  coincidence,  when  she  became  Mrs.  Cross,  this 
actually  was  her  motto. 


60 


Sewing. 


[griff 


liCtter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
5th  Dec. 
1840. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
2l8t  Dec. 
1840. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
27th  Jan. 
1841. 


Letter  to 
Mifts  Lewis, 
nth  Feb. 
1841. 


perfect  truth  and  goodness,  is  gold,  though  it  come 
to  us  all  molten  and  burning,  and  we  know  not  our 
treasure  until  we  have  had  long  smarting. 

It  is  impossible,  to  me  at  least,  to  be  poetical  in 
cold  weather.  I  understand  the  Icelanders  have 
much  national  poetry,  but  I  guess  it  was  written  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  boiling  springs.  I  will 
promise  to  be  as  cheerful  and  as  Christmas-like  as 
my  rickety  body  and  chameleon-like  spirits  will 
allow.  I  am  about  to  commence  the  making  of 
mince-pies,  with  all  the  interesting  sensations  char- 
acterising young  enterprise  or  effort. 

Happily,  the  moody,  melancholy  temperament 
has  some  counterbalancing  advantages  to  those  of 
the  sanguine :  it  does  sometimes  meet  with  results 
more  favourable  than  it  expected,  and  by  its  knack 
of  imagining  the  pessimus,  cheats  the  world  of  its 
power  to  disappoint.  The  very  worm-like  origi- 
nator of  this  coil  of  sentiment  is  the  fact  that  you 
write  more  cheerfully  of  yourself  than  I  had  been 
thinking  of  you,  and  that  ergo  I  am  pleased. 

On  Monday  and  Tuesday  my  father  and  I 
occupied  with  the  sale  of  furniture  at  our 
house :  it  is  probable  that  we  shall  migrate  thither 
in  a  month.  I  shall  be  incessantly  Imrried  until 
after  our  departure,  but  at  present  I  have  to  be 
grateful  for  a  smooth  passage  through  contemplated 
difficulties.  Sewing  is  my  staple  article  of  com- 
merce with  the  hard  trader  Time.  Now  the  wind 
has  veered  to  the  south  I  hope  to  do  much  more, 
and  that  with  greater  zest  than  I  have  done  for 
many  months  —  I  mean  of  all  kinds. 

I  have  been  reading  the  three  volumes  of  the 
"  Life  and  Times  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth,"  and  am 
as  eagerly  waiting  for  the  fourth  and  last  as  any 


were 
new 


1841.]  Wai''s  Purgations.  61 

voracious  novel-reader  for  Bulwer's  last.  I  am  Letter  to 
afraid  I  am  getting  quite  martial  in  my  spirit,  and,  mh  J^b"^' 
in  the  warmth  of  my  sympathy  for  Turenne  and  ^^^' 
Condd,  losing  my  hatred  of  war.  Such  a  conflict 
between  individual  and  moral  influence  is  no 
novelty.  But  certainly  war,  though  the  heaviest 
scourge  with  which  the  divine  wrath  against  sin 
is  manifested  in  Time,  has  been  a  necessary  vent 
for  impurities  and  a  channel  for  tempestuous  pas- 
sions that  must  have  otherwise  made  the  whole 
earth,  like  the  land  of  the  devoted  Canaanites,  to 
vomit  forth  the  inhabitants  thereof.  Awful  as 
such  a  sentiment  appears,  it  seems  to  me  that  in  the 
present  condition  of  man  (and  I  do  not  mean  this 
in  the  sense  that  Cowper  does),  such  a  purgation  of 
the  body  politic  is  probably  essential  to  its  health. 
A  foreign  war  would  soon  put  an  end  to  our 
national  humours,  that  are  growing  to  so  alarming 
a  head. 

What  do  you  think  of  the  Progress  of  Architec-  Letter  to 
ture  as  a  subject  for  Poetry  ?  stu  March, 

I  am  just  about  to  set  out  on  a  purchasing  ex- 
pedition to  Coventry :  you  may  therefore  conceive 
that  I  am  full  of  little  plans  and  anxieties,  and  will 
understand  why  I  should  be  brief,  I  hope  by  the 
close  of  next  week  that  we  and  our  effects  shall  be 
deposited  at  Foleshill,  and  until  then  and  afterwards 
I  shall  be  fully  occupied,  so  that  I  am  sure  you  will 
not  expect  to  hear  from  me  for  the  next  six  weeks. 
One  little  bit  of  unreasonableness  you  must  grant 
me,  —  the  request  for  a  letter  from  yourself  within 
that  time. 


62  Summary  of  Chajpter  I.  [Ibil.] 


SUMMARY. 

AUGUST   18,    1838,    TO    MAKCH   8,    1841. 

Letters  to  Miss  Lewis  —  First  visit  to  London  —  Religious 
asceticism  —  Pascal  —  Hannah  More"s  letters  —  Young's  "  lulidel 
Reclaimed  "  —  Michaelmas  visitors  —  Life  of  WUberforce  —  ]Niue- 
teeuth  birthday  —  Oratorio  at  Coventry  —  Religious  objections  to 
music — Letters  to  ^Mrs.  Samuel  Evans  —  Religious  retlectious  — 
Besetting  sin,  ambition  —  Letters  to  Miss  Lewis  —  objections  to 
fiction  reading  —  Religious  contentions  on  the  nature  of  the  visible 
Church  —  First  poem  —  Account  of  books  read  and  studies  pursued 
—  Wordsworth  —  Twentieth  birthday  —  German  begun  ■ —  Plan  of 
Chart  of  Ecclesiastical  History — Religious  controversies  —  Oxford 
Tracts  —  "  Lyra  Apostolica  "  —  "  Christian  Year  "  —  Chart  of 
Ecclesiastical  History  forestalled  —  Italian  begun  —  Trip  to  Derby- 
shire and  Staffordshire  —  "  Don  Quixote  "  —  Spenser's  "  Faery 
Queen  "  —  Mrs.  Somer\-)lle's  "  Connection  of  the  Physical  Sci- 
ences " — Dislike  of  housekeeping  work  —  Removal  to  Coventry 
decided  — "  Ancient  Christianity  and  the  Oxford  Tracts,"  by 
Isaac  Taylor,  and  Mrs.  John  Cash's  impression  of  its  effect  — 
Determination  not  to  feed  on  the  broth  of  literature  —  Visit  to 
Birmingham  to  hear  "  Messiah  "  —  Reading  Schiller's  "  Maria 
Stuart"  and  Tasso  —  Translation  of  German  poem  —  Depression 
of  surroundings  at  Griff  —  Reading  Harris's  "Great  Teacher," 
Aime'  Martin's  "  L'6ducation  des  Meres,"  and  Mrs.  Hemans's 
Poems  —  Buying  furniture  at  new  house  —  Sewing  —  Reading 
"  Life  and  Times  of  Louis  XTV."  —  Removal  to  Foleshill  Road, 
Coventry. 


FoLESHILL. 


CHAPTER  II. 

New  circumstances  now  created  a  change  almost 
amounting  to  a  revolution  in  Miss  Evans's  life. 
Mr.  Isaac  Evans,  who  had  been  associated  for 
some  time  with  his  father  in  the  land  agency 
business,  married,  and  it  was  arranged  that  he 
should  take  over  the  establishment  at  Griff. 
This  led  to  the  removal  in  March,  1841,  of 
Mr.  Eobert  Evans  and  his  daughter  to  a  house 
on  the  Foleshill  Road,  in  the  immediate  neigh- 
bourhood of  Coventry.  The  house  is  still 
standing,  although  considerably  altered,  —  a 
semi-detached  house  with  a  good  bit  of  garden 
round  it,  and  from  its  upper  windows  a  wide 
view  over  the  surrounding  country,  the  im- 
mediate foreground  being  unfortunately,  how- 
ever, disfigured  by  the  presence  of  mills  and 
chimneys.  It  is  town  life  now  instead  of 
country  life,  and  we  feel  the  effects  at  once  in 
the  tone  of  the  subsequent  letters.  The  friend- 
ships now  formed  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bray  and 
Miss  Sara  Hennell  particularly,  and  the  being 
brought  within  reach  of  a  small  circle  of  culti- 
vated people  generally,  render  this  change  of 
residence  an  exceedingly  important  factor  in 
George  Eliot's  development.  It  chanced  that 
the  new  house  was  next  door  to  Mrs.  Pears,  a 
sister  of  Mr.  Bray,  and  as  there  had  been  some 
acquaintance  in  days  gone  by  between  him  and 
the  family  at  Griff,  this  close  neighbourhood  led 


64 


Satisfaction  with  New  Life,     [foleshii.l, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
Saturday 
evening, 
April,  1841. 


Letter  to 
MiHs  Lf^wis, 
April,  1841. 


to  an  exchange  of  visits.      The  following  ex- 
tracts from  letters  to  Miss  Lewis  show  how  the 
acquaintance  ripened,  and  will  give  some  indi- 
cations of   the   first    impressions    of   Coventry 
life :  — 
Last  evening  I  mentioned   you   to  my  neighbour 
(Mrs.   Pears),  who  is  growing  into  the  more  pre- 
cious character  of  a  friend.      I  have    seriously  to 
be  thankful  for  far  better  health  than  I  have  pos- 
sessed, I  think,  for  years,  and  I  am  imperatively 
called  on  to  trade  diligently  with  this  same  talent. 
I  am  likely  to  be  more  and  more  busy,  if  I  succeed 
in  a  project  that  is  just  now  occupying  my  thoughts 
and   feelings.      I  seem   to  be  tried  in  a  contrary 
mode  to  that  in  which  most  of  my  dearest  friends 
are  being  tutored,  —  tried  in  the  most  dangerous 
way,  —  by  prosperity.      Solomon  says,  "  In  the  day 
of  prosperity  be  joyful,  but  in  the  day  of  adversity 
consider. "     It  seems  to  me  that  a  transposition, 
vice  versa,   of   the  admonitions  would   be  equally 
salutary  and  just.      Truly,  as  the  prophet  of  Selwyn 
has  told  us,  "  Heaven  is  formidable  in  its  favours.  " 
Not  that  a  wise  and  grateful  reception  of  blessings 
obliges  us  to  stretch  our  faces  to  the  length  of  one 
of  Cromwell's  Barebones ;  nor  to  shun  that  joyous 
bird-like    enjoyment    of    things    (which,    though 
perishable  as  to  their  actual    existence,    will    be 
embalmed   to  eternity   in   the    precious    spices    of 
gratitude)  that  is  distinct  from  levity  and  volup- 
tuousness.     I  am  really  crowded  with  engagements 
just  now,  and  I  have  added  one  to  the  number  of 
my  correspondents. 

The  whole  of  last  week  was  devoted  to  a  brides- 
maid's ^   duties,    and   each  day  of  this  has  been 

1  Brother's  marriage. 


1841.]  Meligio%is  Aspirations.  65 

partially  occupied  in  paying  or  receiving  visits.  Letter  to 
I  have  a  calm  in  sea  and  sky  that  I  doubt  not  will  Ap^ll^lS^. 
erelong  be  interrupted.  This  is  not  our  rest,  if 
we  are  among  those  for  whom  there  remaineth  one, 
and  to  pass  through  life  without  tribulation  (or,  as 
Jeremy  Taylor  beautifully  says,  with  only  such  a 
measure  of  it  as  may  be  compared  to  an  artificial 
discord  in  music,  which  nurses  the  ear  for  the 
returning  harmony)  would  leave  us  destitute  of 
one  of  the  marks  that  invariably  accompany  sal- 
vation, and  of  that  fellowship  in  the  sufferings  of 
the  Eedeemer  which  can  alone  work  in  us  a  resem- 
blance to  one  of  the  most  prominent  parts  of  His 
divinely  perfect  character,  and  enable  us  to  obey 
the  injunction,  "  In  patiencQ  possess  your  souls. " 
I  have  often  observed  how,  in  secular  things,  active 
occupation  in  procuring  the  necessaries  of  life  ren- 
ders the  character  indifferent  to  trials  not  affecting 
that  one  object.  There  is  an  analogous  influence 
produced  in  the  Christian  by  a  vigorous  pursuit  of 
duty,  a  determination  to  work  while  it  is  day. 

One  of  the  penalties  women  must  pay  for  modern  Letter  to 
deference   to    their    intellect    is,    I  suppose,    that  ^I'thAp^u^ 
they  must  give  reasons  for  their  conduct  after  the  ^^^' 
fashion  of  men.      The  days  are  past  for  pleading 
a  woman's  reason.     The  truth  is,  that   the    hin- 
drances to  my  writing  have  been    like  the  little 
waves  of  the  brooks  that  look  so  lovely  just  now, 
—  they  have  arisen  one  after  another  close  to  my 
side,  but  when  I  have  looked  back  I  have  found 
the  ripples  too  insignificant  to  be  marked  in  the 
distance.     My  father's  longer  sejours  at  home  than 
formerly,    and  multiplied    acquaintances  and   en- 
gagements, are  really  valid  excuses  for  me  hitherto, 
but  I  do  not  intend  to  need  them  in  future ;  I  hope 

VOL.  I  —  5 


66 


Depression. 


[foleshilL; 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
28th  April, 
1841. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
Thursday 
morning, 
June,  1841. 


to  be  a  "  snapper  up  of  unconsidered  "  moments. 
I  have  just  been  interrupted  by  a  visit  from  a  las* 
of  fourteen  who  has  despoiled  me  of  half  an  hour, 
and  I  am  going  out   to  dinner,   so  that  I  cannot 
follow  the  famous    advice,   "  Hasten    slowly. "      I 
suppose  that  you  framed  your  note  on  the  principle 
that  a  sharp  and  sudden  sound  is  the  most  rousing, 
but  there  are  addenda  about  yourself  that  I  want 
to  know,  though  I  dare  not  ask  for  them.     I  do 
not  feel  settled  enough  to  write  more  at  present. 
How  is  it  that  Erasmus  could  w^ite  volumes  on 
volumes  and  multifarious  letters  besides,  while  I, 
whose  labours  hold  about  the  same  relation  to  his 
as  an  ant-hill  to  a  pyramid  or  a  drop  of  dew  to 
the  ocean,  seem  too  busy  to  write  a  few  ?     A  most 
posing  query ! 

I  have  of  late  felt  a  depression  that  has  dis- 
ordered the  vision  of  my  mind's  eye  and  made 
me  alive  to  what  is  certainly  a  fact  (though  my 
imagination  when  I  am  in  health  is  an  adept  at 
concealing  it),  that  I  am  alone  in  the  world.  I  do 
not  mean  to  be  so  sinful  as  to  say  that  I  have  not 
friends  most  undeservedly  kind  and  tender,  and 
disposed  to  form  a  far  too  favourable  estimate  of 
me,  but  I  mean  that  I  have  no  one  who  enters  into 
my  pleasures  or  my  griefs,  no  one  with  whom  I 
can  pour  out  my  soul,  no  one  with  the  same  yearn- 
ings, the  same  temptations,  the  same  delights  as 
myself.  I  merely  mention  this  as  the  impression 
that  obtrudes  itself  when  my  body  tramples  on  its 
keeper,  —  (a  metaphor  borrowed  from  a  menagerie 
of  wild  beasts  if  it  should  happen  to  puzzle  you !) 
—  mysterious  "  connection  exquisite  of  distant 
worlds  "  that  we  present !  A  few  drops  of  steel 
will  perhaps  make  me  laugh  at  the  simple  objects 


^841.]  "Architecttire  of  the  Heavens."  67 

that,  in  gloom  and  mist,  I  conjure  into  stalking 
apparitions. 

I  am  beginning  to  be  interlaced  with  multiply-  Letter  to 
ing  ties  of  duty  and  affection  that,  while  they  ren-  at  Maigrt^ 
der  my  new  home  happier,  forbid  me  to  leave  it  on  isfi.'^''^^' 
a  pleasure-seeking   expedition.     I    think,   indeed, 
that  both  my  heart  and  limbs  would  leap  to  behold 
the  great  and  wide  sea,  —  that  old  ocean  on  which 
man  can  leave  no  trace. 

I  have  been  revelling  in  Nichol's  "  Architecture  Letterto 
of  the  Heavens  and  Phenomena  of  the  Solar  Sys-  sdsept. 
tem,"  and  have  been  in  imagination  winging  my 
flight  from  system  to  system,  from  universe  to 
universe,  trying  to  conceive  myself  in  such  a  posi- 
tion and  with  such  a  visual  faculty  as  would 
enable  me  to  enjoy  what  Young  enumerates  among 
the  novelties  of  the  "  Stranger  "  man  when  he 
bursts  the  shell  to 

"  Behold  an  infinite  of  floating  worlds 
Divide  the  crystal  waves  of  ether  pure 
In  endless  voyage  witliout  port." 

"Hospitable  infinity!"  Nichol  beautifully  says. 
How  should  I  love  to  have  a  thoroughgoing  stu- 
dent with  me,  that  we  might  read  together!  We 
might  each  alternately  employ  the  voice  and 
the  fingers,  and  thus  achieve  just  twice  as  much 
as  a  poor  solitary.  I  am  more  impressed  than  ever 
with  a  truth  beautifully  expressed  in  "Woman's 
Mission  "  —  "  Learning  is  only  so  far  valuable  as 
it  serves  to  enlarge  and  enlighten  the  bounds  of 
conscience. "  This  I  believe  it  eminently  does 
when  pursued  humbly  and  piously,  and  from  a 
belief  that  it  is  a  solemn  duty  to  cultivate  every 
faculty  of  our  nature  so  far  as  primary  obliga- 
tions allow.     There  is  an  exhortation  of  St.  Paul's 


1841. 


68  Mind  requires  Rest.  [foleshill, 

Letter  to  that  I  shoiild  lovG  to  take  as  my  motto  :  "  Finally, 
M  sepr'''  my  brethren,  whatsoever  things  are  honest  "  (you 
know  the  continuation),  —  "  if  there  be  any  vir- 
tue, and  if  there  be  any  praise,  think  on  these 
things. "  I  have  had  to  lament  lately  that  mine 
is  not  a  hard-working  mind,  —  it  requires  fre- 
quent rest.  I  am  violently  in  love  with  the 
Italian  fashion  of  repeating  an  adjective  or  adverb, 
and  even  noun,  to  give  force  to  expression :  there 
is  so  much  more  fire  in  it  than  in  our  circumlocu- 
tory phrases,  our  dull  "  verys  "  and  "  exceedinglys  " 
and  "  extremelys.  "  I  strongly  recommend  Hallam 
to  you.  I  shall  read  it  again  if  I  live.  When  a 
sort  of  haziness  comes  over  the  mind,  making  one 
feel  weary  of  articulated  or  written  signs  of  ideas, 
does  not  the  notion  of  a  less  laborious  mode  of 
communication,  of  a  perception  approaching  more 
nearly  to  intuition,  seem  attractive  ?  Nathless,  I 
love  words :  they  are  the  quoits,  the  bows,  the 
staves  that  furnish  the  gymnasium  of  the  mind. 
Without  them,  in  our  present  condition,  our  intel- 
lectual strength  would  have  no  implements.  I 
have  been  rather  humbled  in  thinking  that  if  I 
were  thrown  on  an  uncivilised  island,  and  had  to 
form  a  literature  for  its  inhabitants  from  my  own 
mental  stock,  how  very  fragmentary  would  be  the 
information  with  which  I  could  furnish  them  I  It 
would  be  a  good  mode  of  testing  one's  knowledge 
to  set  one's  self  the  task  of  writing  sketches  of 
all  subjects  that  have  entered  into  one's  studies 
entirely  from  the  chronicles  of  memory.  The 
prevalence  of  misery  and  want  in  this  boasted 
nation  of  prosperity  and  glory  is  appalling,  and 
really  seems  to  call  us  away  from  mental  luxury. 
Oh  to  be  doing  some  little  toward  the  regeneration 


18-11.]  Friendship  ivitJi  the  Brays.  69 

of  this  groaning,  travailing  creation !  I  am  supine 
and  stupid,  —  overfed  with  favours,  while  the 
haggard  looks  and  piercing  glance  of  want  and 
conscious  hopelessness  are  to  be  seen  in  the  streets. 

Is  not  this  a  true  autumn  day?     Just  the  still  Letter  to 
melancholy  that   I  love,  —  that   makes    life    and  J^ro^tr'^* 
nature  harmonise.      The  birds  are  consulting  about  ^^^' 
their  migrations,  the  trees  are  putting  on  the  hectic 
or  the  pallid  hues  of  decay,  and  begin  to  strew  the 
ground,  that  one's  very  footsteps  may  not  disturb 
the  repose  of  earth  and  air,  while  they  give  us  a 
scent   that   is  a  perfect    anodyne   to  the  restless 
spirit.       Delicious    autumn !      My    very    soul    is 
wedded  to  it,   and  if  I  were  a  bird  I  would  fly 
about  the  earth  seeking  the  successive  autumns. 

I  am  going,  I  hope,  to-day  to  effect  a  breach  in  Letter  to 
the  thick  wall  of   indifference  behind  which    the  mno^!"^'^ 
denizens  of   Coventry   seem    inclined  to  intrench 
themselves;  but  I  fear  I  shall  fail. 

This  probably  refers  to  the  first  visit  paid  by 
Miss  Evans  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bray  at  their 
house.  They  had  met  in  the  previous  May  at 
Mrs.  Pears's;  but  although  they  were  at  once 
mutually  attracted,  the  acquaintance  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  immediately  prosecuted 
further.  Now,  however,  any  time  lost  in  the 
beginning  was  quickly  made  up,  and  it  is  aston- 
ishing how  rapidly  the  most  intimate  relations 
were  formed.  Mr.  Bray  was  a  ribbon-manu- 
facturer, well-to-do  at  that  time,  and  had  a 
chaiTning  house,  Eosehill,  with  a  beautiful 
lawn  and  garden,  in  the  outskirts  of  Coventry. 
Only  a  part  of  his  time  was  occupied  with  his 
business,  and  he  had  much  leisure  and  oppor- 
tunity, of  which  he  availed  himself,  for  liberal 


1841. 


70  Brays  Influence  on  Opinions,     [foleshill, 

self-education  and  culture.     His  was  a  robust, 
self-reliant  mind.     Already,   in  1839,  he  had 
published    a  work  on  the    "  Education   of  the 
Feelings,"  viewed  from  the  phrenological  stand- 
point; and   in   this  year,    1841,    appeared  his 
most    important    book,    "  The    Philosophy    of 
Necessity. "     He  always  remained  a  sincere  and 
complete  believer  in  the  science  of  phrenology. 
He  had  married  Miss  Caroline  Hennell,  sister 
of  the  Mr.  Charles  Hennell  who  published  in 
1838  "  An    Inquiry   concerning  the    Origin  of 
Christianity,"  — a  remarkable  book,  which  was 
translated  into  German,  Strauss  contributing  a 
preface  to  the  translation.     It  will  be  seen  from 
subsequent  letters  how  greatly  Miss  Evans  was 
interested  in  this  book,  —  how  much  she  ad- 
mired it;  and  the  reading  of  it,  combined  with 
the  association  with  her  new  friends,  —  with 
the  philosophical  speculations  of  Mr.  Bray,  and 
with  Mrs.    Bray's  sympathy  in    her    brother's 
critical  and  sceptical    standpoint,  —  no    doubt 
hastened  the  change   in  her  attitude   towards 
the  dogmas  of  the  old  religion.      In  the  Ana- 
lytical Catalogue  of    Mr.    Chapman's    publica- 
tions,  issued  in  1852,  there  is  an  analysis  of 
Hennell's    "  Tuquiry"    done    by    Miss    Evans, 
whicli  may  lie  inserted  here,  as  giving  her  idea 
of  the  book  eleven  years  later  :  — 
*  The  first  edition  of  this  work  appeared  in  1838, 
when  the  present  strong  current  of  public  opinion 
in  favour  of  free  rnligious  discussion  had  not  yet 
set  in ;  and  it  probably  helped  to  generate  the  tone 
of  thought  exhibited  in  more  recent  works  of  the 
same  class,  to  which  circumstances  have  given  a 
wider  fame,  —  works  which,   like  the   above,    in 


1841.]  Charles  HemieU's  "  Inquiry."  71 

considering  questions  of  Biblical  criticism  and  the 
philosophy  of  Christianity,  combiDe  high  refine- 
ment, purity  of  aim,  and  candour,  with  the  utmost 
freedom  of  investigation,  and  with  a  popularity  of 
style  which  wins  them  the  attention  not  only  of 
the  learned  but  of  the  practical. 

"  The  author  opens  his  inquiry  with  a  Historical 
Sketch,  extending  from  the  Babylonish  Captivity 
to  the  end  of  the  first  century,  the  design  of  which 
is  to  show  how,  abstracting  the  idea  of  the  miracu- 
lous, or  any  speciality  of  divine  influence,  the 
gradual  development  of  certain  elements  in  Jewish 
character,  and  the  train  of  events  in  Jewish  his- 
tory, contributed  to  form  a  suitable  nidus  for  the 
production  of  a  character  and  career  like  that  of 
Jesus,  and  how  the  devoted  enthusiasm  generated 
by  such  a  career  in  his  immediate  disciples  render- 
ing it  easier  for  them  to  modify  their  ideas  of  the 
Messiah  than  to  renounce  their  belief  in  their 
Master's  Messiahship,  — the  accession  of  Gentile 
converts  and  the  destruction  of  the  last  remnant 
of  theocracy  necessitating  a  wider  interpretation  of 
Messianic  hopes,  — the  junction  of  Christian  ideas 
with  Alexandrian  Platonism,  and  the  decrepitude 
of  Polytheism,  combined  to  associate  the  name  of 
Jesus,  his  Messiahship,  his  death  and  his  resur- 
rection, with  a  great  moral  and  religious  revolu- 
tion. This  historical  sketch,  which  is  under  the 
disadvantage  of  presenting,  synthetically,  ideas 
based  on  a  subsequent  analysis,  is  intended  to 
meet  the  difficulty  so  often  urged,  and  which 
might  be  held  to  nullify  the  value  of  a  critical  in- 
vestigation, that  Christianity  is  a  fact,  for  which, 
if  the  supposition  of  a  miraculous  origin  be  re- 
jected,  no  adequate  and   probable  causes  can  be 


72  Charles  Hennell's  " Inquiry"     [foleshill, 

assigned,  and  that  thus,  however  defective  may  be 
the  evidence  of  the  New  Testament  history,  its 
acceptance  is  the  least  difficult  alternative. 

"  In  the  writer's  view,  the  characteristics  of  the 
Essene  sect,  as  traced  by  Josephus  and  Philo, 
justify  the  supposition  that  Jesus  was  educated  in 
their  school  of  philosophy ;  but  with  the  elevated 
belief  and  purity  of  life  which  belonged  to  this 
sect,  he  united  the  ardent  patriotic  ideas  which 
had  previously  animated  Judas  of  Galilee,  who 
resisted  the  Eoman  authority  on  the  ground  that 
God  was  the  only  ruler  and  lord  of  the  Jews. 
The  profound  consciousness  of  genius,  a  religious 
fervour  which  made  the  idea  of  the  divine  ever 
present  to  him,  patriotic  zeal,  and  a  spirit  of  moral 
reform,  together  with  a  participation  in  the  enthu- 
siastic belief  of  his  countrymen  that  the  long-pre- 
dicted exaltation  of  Israel  was  at  hand,  combined 
to  produce  in  the  mind  of  Jesus  the  gradual  con- 
viction that  he  was  himself  the  Messiah,  with 
whose  reisn  that  exaltation  would  commence.  He 
began,  as  John  the  Baptist  had  already  done,  to 
announce  'the  kingdom  of  heaven,' — a  phrase 
which,  to  the  Jewish  mind,  represented  the  national 
glorification  of  Israel;  and  by  his  preaching,  and 
the  influence  of  his  powerful  personality,  he  won 
multitudes  in  Galilee  to  a  participation  in  his 
belief  that  he  was  the  expected  son  of  David. 
His  public  entrance  into  Jerusalem  in  the  guise 
which  tradition  associated  with  the  Messiah,  when 
he  sanctioned  the  homage  of  the  multitude,  was 
probably  the  climax  of  his  confidence  that  a  great 
demonstration  of  divine  power,  in  concurrence 
with  popuLir  enthusiasm,  would  seat  him  trium- 
phantly on  the  throne  of  David.     No  such  result 


1841.]  Charles  HennelVs  "  Inquiry. "  73 

appearing,  his  views  of  the  divine  dispensation 
with  respect  to  himself  began  to  change,  and  he 
felt  the  presentiment  that  he  must  enter  on  his 
Messianic  reign  through  the  gates  of  suffering  and 
death.  Viewing  Jesus  as  a  pretender  not  only  to 
spiritual  but  to  political  power,  as  one  who  really 
expected  the  subversion  of  the  existing  govern- 
ment to  make  way  for  his  own  kingship  (though 
he  probably  relied  on  divine  rather  than  on  human 
means),  he  must  necessarily  have  appeared  in  a 
dangerous  light  to  those  of  his  countrymen  who 
were  in  authority,  and  who  were  anxious  at  any 
price  to  preserve  public  tranquillity  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Eoman  power,  ready  to  visit  with 
heavy  vengeance  any  breach  of  order,  and  to 
deprive  them  of  the  last  remnants  of  their  inde- 
pendence; and  hence  the  motives  for  his  arrest 
and  execution.  To  account  for  the  belief  of  the 
disciples  in  the  resurrection  of  their  Master,  —  a 
belief  which  appears  to  have  been  sincere,  —  the 
author  thinks  it  necessary  to  suppose  a  certain 
nucleus  of  fact,  and  this  he  finds  in  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  body  of  Jesus,  a  point  attested  by  all 
the  four  Evangelists.  The  secret  of  this  disap- 
pearance probably  lay  with  Joseph  of  Arimathea 
and  Nicodemus,  who  were  anxious  to  avoid  im- 
plicating themselves  with  that  fermentation  of 
regretful  enthusiasm  to  which  a  resort  of  the  dis- 
ciples  to  the  grave  might  give  rise.  Animated  by 
a  belief  in  the  resurrection,  —  which,  being  more 
harmless  in  the  eyes  of  the  authorities  than  that 
in  a  living  Messiah,  they  were  permitted  to  preach 
with  little  molestation,  —  the  zeal  of  the  disciples 
won  many  converts ;  a  new  impulse  was  given  to 
their  cause  by  the  accession  of  Paul,  who  became 


74  Charles  HeiinelVs  "Inquiry."      [foleshill. 

the  chief  missionary  of  the  new  faith,  as  construed 
by  himself,  to  the  Gentiles ;  and  the  concurrence 
of  the  causes  indicated  above,  modifying  the  early 
creed  of  the  apostles,  and  blending  it  with  trains 
of  thought  already  prevalent,  bore  along  Chris- 
tianity in  its  conquest  over  the  minds  of  men 
until  it  became  the  dominant  religion  of  the 
Eoman  world. 

"  Having  sought  to  show,  in  this  preliminary 
sketch,  that  a  belief  in  miracles  is  not  entailed  on 
us  by  the  fact  of  the  early  growth  of  Christianity, 
the  author  enters  on  the  inquiry  whether  the 
claims  of  the  Evangelical  writers  on  our  credence 
are  such  as  to  sustain  the  miraculous  part  of  their 
narratives.  The  answer  is  in  the  negative.  He 
discusses,  first,  the  date  and  credibility  of  each 
Gospel,  and  concludes  that  while  Matthew  has 
many  marvellous  stories,  incongruous  in  them- 
selves, and  not  only  unsupported  but  contradicted 
by  the  other  Evangelists,  he  nevertheless  presents 
the  most  comprehensible  account  of  the  career  of 
Jesus ;  that  in  Mark,  evidently  more  remote  in 
time  and  circumstances,  both  from  his  events  and 
from  Jewish  modes  of  thought,  the  idea  conveyed 
of  Jesus  is  much  vaguer  and  less  explicable ;  that 
in  Luke  there  is  a  still  further  modification  of  hia 
character,  which  has  acquired  a  tinge  of  asceti- 
cism ;  while  in  John  the  style  of  his  teaching  ia 
wholly  changed,  and  instead  of  the  graphic  para- 
ble and  the  pithy  apothegm,  he  utters  long  mys-. 
tical  discourses  in  the  style  of  the  first  epistle 
bearing  the  name  of  the  same  Evangelist.  Mr. 
Hennell,  however,  adheres  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  substance  of  this  Gospel  came  from  the  apostle 
John  at  an  advanced  age,  when  both  the  events  of 


1841.]  Charles  HennelVs" Inquiry ."  75 

"his  early  manhood  and  the  scenes  of  his  native 
land  lay  in  the  far  distance.  The  writer  then 
enters  on  a  special  examination  of  the  Resurrec- 
tion and  Ascension,  and  the  other  miracles  in  the 
Gospels  and  the  Acts,  and  inquires  how  far  they 
are  sustained  by  the  Apostolic  Epistles.  He  ex- 
amines the  prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament  sup- 
posed to  have  been  fulfilled  in  Jesus,  and  also  the 
predictions  of  Jesus  himself  concerning  his  death 
and  resurrection ;  and  finally,  he  considers  the 
character,  views,  and  doctrine  of  Christ.  Accord- 
ing to  him,  an  impartial  study  of  the  conduct  and 
sayings  of  Jesus,  as  exhibited  in  the  Gospels,  pro- 
duces the  conviction  that  he  was  an  enthusiast  and 
a  revolutionist,  no  less  than  a  reformer  and  a  moral 
and  religious  teacher.  Passages  are  adduced  from 
the  Old  Testament,  and  from  the  Apocryphal  and 
Eabbiuical  writings,  to  show  that  there  is  scarcely 
anything  absolutely  original  in  the  teaching  of 
Jesus ;  but,  in  the  opinion  of  the  author,  he  mani- 
fests a  freedom  and  individuality  in  the  use  of  his 
materials,  and  a  general  superiority  of  tone  and 
selection,  which,  united  with  the  devotion  of  his 
life  to  what  he  held  the  highest  purpose,  mark 
him  to  be  of  an  order  of  minds  occurring  but  at 
rare  intervals  in  the  history  of  our  race. 

"  Shortly  after  the  appearance  of  this  work,  it 
was  translated  into  German,  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  Dr.  Strauss,  who,  in  the  Preface  he 
prefixed  to  it,  says :  'Not  sufficiently  acquainted 
with  German  to  read  continuously  a  learned  work 
in  that  language,  the  labours  of  our  theologians 
were  only  accessible  to  him'  (the  author  of  the 
'Inquiry  ')  'so  far  as  they  were  written  in  Latin, 
or  translated  into  English,  or  treated  of  in  English 


76  Charles  HenneU's  "  Inquiry."      [foleshill, 

writings  or  periodicals :  especially  he  is  unac- 
quainted with  what  the  Germans  have  effected  in 
the  criticism  of  the  Gospels  since  Schleiermacher's 
work  on  Luke,  and  even  the  earlier  commentators 
he  knows  but  imperfectly.  Only  so  much  the 
more  remarkable  is  it,  however,  that  both  in  the 
principles  and  in  the  main  results  of  his  investi- 
gation, he  is  on  the  very  track  which  has  been 
entered  on  amongst  us  in  recent  years.  .  .  .  That 
at  certain  periods,  certain  modes  of  thought  lie  as 
it  were  in  the  atmosphere,  .  .  .  and  come  to  light 
in  the  most  remote  places  without  perceptible 
media  of  communication,  is  shown,  not  only  by 
the  contents,  but  by  the  spirit,  of  Mr.  HenneU's 
work.  No  further  traces  of  the  ridicule  and  scorn 
which  characterise  his  countrymen  of  the  Deistical 
school ;  the  subject  is  treated  in  the  earnest  and 
dignified  tone  of  the  truth-seeker,  not  with  the 
rancour  of  a  passionate  polemic ;  we  nowhere  find 
him  deriving  religion  from  priestcraft,  but  from 
the  tendencies  and  wants  of  human  nature.  .  .  . 
These  elevated  views,  which  the  learned  German 
of  our  day  appropriates  as  the  fruit  of  the  religious 
and  scientific  advancement  of  his  nation,  this  Eng- 
lishman, to  whom  most  of  the  means  at  our  com- 
mand were  wanting,  has  been  able  to  educe  entirely 
from  himself.  .  .  .  An  Englishman,  a  merchant, 
a  man  of  the  world,  he  possesses,  both  by  nature 
and  by  training,  the  practical  insight,  the  sure 
tact,  which  lays  hold  on  realities.  The  solution 
of  problems  over  which  the  German  flutters  with 
many  circuits  of  learned  formuhe,  our  English 
author  often  succeeds  in  seizing  at  one  spring. 
...  To  the  learned  he  often  presents  things  under 
a  surprisingly  new  aspect;   to  the  unlearned,   in- 


1841.]         Religious  Douhts  and  Dijfflculties.  11 

variably  under  that  which  is  the  most  comprehen- 
sible and  attractive. '  " 

The  reading  of  Mr.   Hennell's  book,  which 
followed  close  on  the  first  visit  to  the  Brays, 
had  no  doubt  an  important  influence  on  George 
Eliot's  development;  but  evidently  there  had 
been  a  good  deal  of  half-unconscious  prepara- 
tion beforehand  (as  indicated  by  Mrs.   Cash's 
remarks   on  Isaac   Taylor's  work  in   the   last 
chapter),  which  was  greatly  stimulated  now  by 
the  contact  with  new  minds.  ^     The  following 
extract  from  a  letter  to  Miss  Lewis,  dated  13th 
November,   1841,   apparently  fixes  the  date  of 
the  first  acknowledgment   by  herself  that  her 
opinions   were    undergoing    so    momentous    a 
change. 
My  whole  soul  has  been  engrossed  in    the   most  ^^^^^^ 
interesting  of  all  inquiries  for  the  last  few  days,  and  istu  Nov. 
to  what  result  my  thoughts  may  lead,  I  know  not,  — 
possibly  to  one  that  will  startle  you  ;  but  my  only 
desire  is  to  knov/  the  truth,  my  only  fear  to  cling  to 
error.     I  venture  to  say  our  love  will  not  decompose 
under  the  influence  of  separation,  unless  you  ex- 
communicate me  for  differing  from  you  in  opinion. 
Think,  —  is  there  any  conceivable  alteration  in  me 
that  would  prevent  your  coming  to  me  at  Christ- 
mas ?     I  long  to  have  a  friend  such  as  you  are,  I 
think  I  may  say,  alone  to  me,  to  unburthen  every 
thought  and  difficulty,  —  for  I  am  still  a  solitary, 
though  near  a  city.     But  we  have  the  universe  to 
talk  with,  infinity  in  which  to  stretch  the  gaze  of 
hope,  and  an  all-bountiful,  all-wise  Creator  in  whom 
to   confide,  —  He   who   has    given   us   the    untold 

1  See  Appendix  at  end  of  volume. 


78  Father's  Disapproval.         [foleshill, 

delights  of  which  our  reason,  our  emotion,  our  sen- 
sations are  the  ever-springing  sources. 
Letter  to  What  a  pitj  that  while  mathematics  are  indubi- 

stbDec.    '   table,  immutable,  and  no  one  doubts  the  properties 
^^'  of  a  triangle  or  a  circle,  doctrines  infinitely  impor- 

tant to  man  are  buried  in  a  charnel-heap  of  bones 
over  which  nothing  is  heard  but  the  barks  and 
growls  of  contention  !  "  Unto  their  assembly,  mine 
honour,  be  not  thou  united." 

It  was  impossible  for  such  a  nature  as  ]\Iiss 
Evans's,  in  the  enthusiasm  of  this  first  great 
change,  to  rest  satisfied  in  compliance  with  the 
old  forms,  and  she  was  so  uneasy  in  an  equiv- 
ocal position  that   she  determined   to  give   up 
going   to   church.      This   was    an    unforgivable 
offence  in  the  eyes  of  her  father,  who  was  a 
churchman  of  the  old  school,  and  nearly  led  to 
a  family  rupture.     He   went  so  far  as  to  put 
into  an  agent's  hands  the  lease  of  the  house  in 
the  Foleshill  Eoad,  with  the  intention  of  going 
to  live  with  his  married  daughter.     Upon  this. 
Miss  Evans  made  up  her  mind  to  go  into  lodg- 
ings at  Leamington,  and  to  try  to  support  her- 
self by  teaching.     The  first  letter  to  Mrs.  Brav 
refers  to  this  incident :  — 
Letter  to      My  guardian  angel  Mrs.  Pears  has  just  sent  for  me 
fllim.''    to  hear  your  kind  note,  which  has  done  my  acliing 
limbs  a  little  good.     I  shall  be  most  thankful  for 
the  opportunity  of  going  to  Leamington,  and  Mrs. 
Pears  is  willing  to  go  too.     There  is  but  one  woe, 
that  of  leaving  my  dear  father,  —  all  else,  doleful 
lodgings,    scanty    meals,    and    gazing-stochism,   are 
quite  indifferent  to  me.     Therefore  do  not  fear  for 
me  when  T  am  once  settled  in  my  home  —  wherever 
it  may  be  —  and  freed  from  wretched  suspense. 


1842.]  Eeligious  Difficulties.  79 

Far  from  being  weary  of  your  dear  little  Henry,  Letter  to 
his  matin  visits  are  as  cheering  to  me  as  those  of  FrTdayTvei 
any  little  bird  mk 

"  That  comes  in  spite  of  sorrow, 
And  at  my  window  bids  good-morrow." 

We  have  not,  perhaps,  been  so  systematic  as  a 
regular  tutor  and  pupil  would  have  been,  but  we 
crave  indulgence  for  some  laxity.  I  was  really 
touched  that  you  should  think  of  me  while  among 
friends  more  closely  linked  with  you  in  every  way. 
I  was  beginning  to  get  used  to  the  conviction  that, 
ivy-like  as  I  am  by  nature,  I  must  (as  we  see  ivy  do 
sometimes)  shoot  out  into  an  isolated  tree.  Never 
again  imagine  that  you  need  ask  forgiveness  for 
speaking  or  writing  to  me  on  subjects  to  me  more 
interesting  than  aught  else ;  on  the  contrary,  believe 
that  I  really  enjoy  conversation  of  this  nature: 
blank  silence  and  cold  reserve  are  the  only  bitters  I 
care  for  in  my  intercourse  with  you.  I  can  rejoice 
in  all  the  joys  of  humanity,  —  in  all  that  serves  to 
elevate  and  purify  feeling  and  action ;  nor  will  I 
quarrel  with  the  million  who,  I  am  persuaded,  are 
with  me  in  intention,  though  our  dialects  differ. 
Of  course  I  must  desire  the  ultimate  downfall  of 
error,  for  no  error  is  innocuous  ;  but  this  assuredly 
will  occur  without  my  proselytising  aid,  and  the 
best  proof  of  a  real  love  of  the  truth  —  that  freshest 
stamp  of  divinity  —  is  a  calm  confidence  in  its  in- 
trinsic power  to  secure  its  own  high  destiny,  —  that 
of  universal  empire.  Do  not  fear  that  I  will  become 
a  stagnant  pool  by  a  self-sufficient  determination 
only  to  listen  to  my  own  echo ;  to  read  the  yea,  yea 
on  my  own  side,  and  be  most  comfortably  deaf 
to  the  nay,  nay.   Would  that  all  rejected  practically 


80 


Desire  for  Truth. 


[foleshill, 


Letter  to 
Mr8.  Pears, 
Friday  even- 
ing, Feb. 
1842. 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Bray, 
Feb.  1S42. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Lewis, 
19th  Feb. 
1842. 


this  maxim  !  To  fear  the  examination  of  any  propo- 
sition appears  to  me  an  intellectual  and  a  moral 
palsy  that  will  ever  hinder  the  firm  grasping  of 
any  substance  whatever.  For  my  part,  I  wish  to 
be  among  the  ranks  of  that  glorious  crusade  that  is 
seeking  to  set  Truth's  Holy  Sepulchre  free  from  a 
usurped  domination.  We  shall  then  see  her  resur- 
rection !  Meanwhile,  although  I  cannot  rank  among 
my  principles  of  action  a  fear  of  vengeance  eternal, 
gratitude  for  predestined  salvation,  or  a  revelation 
of  future  glories  as  a  reward,  I  fully  participate  in 
the  belief  that  the  only  heaven  here,  or  hereafter, 
is  to  be  found  in  conformity  with  the  will  of  the 
Supreme ;  a  continual  aiming  at  the  attainment  of 
the  perfect  ideal,  the  true  logos  that  dwells  in  the 
bosom  of  the  one  Father.  I  hardly  know  whether 
I  am  ranting  after  the  fashion  of  one  of  the  Prim- 
itive  Methodist  prophetesses,  with  a  cart  for  her 
rostrum,  I  am  writing  so  fast.  Good-bye,  and  bless- 
ings on  you,  as  they  will  infallibly  be  on  the 
children  of  peace  and  virtue. 

Asain  about  the  same  date  in  1842  she  writes 

to  Mrs.  Bray  :  — 
A  heart  full  of  love  and  gratitude  to  you  for  all 
your  kindness  in  thought  and  act  to  me  undeserv- 
ing. I  daresay  my  manner  belies  my  feelings ;  but 
friendship  must  live  by  faith  and  not  by  sight,  and 
I  shall  be  a  great  gainer  by  leaving  you  to  inter- 
pret my  mystic  character  without  any  other  key 
than  your  own  goodness. 

The  last  letter  of  the  series  to  Miss  Lewis 

also  refers  to  the  difficulties  of  the  situation. 
I  daresay  you  have  added,  subtracted,  and  divided 
suppositions  until  you  tliink  you  have  a  sure  pro- 
duct, —  viz.,  a  good  quantum,  or  rather,  a  bad  one, 


1842. 


1842.]  Phrenological  Indications.  81 

of  indifference  and  forgetfulness  as  the  representa-  Letter  to 
tion  of  my  conduct  towards  you.  If  so,  revise  your  vlth.  rtb. "' 
arithmetic,  for  be  it  known  to  you  that,  having  had 
my  propensities,  sentiments,  and  mtellect  gauged  a 
second  time,  I  am  pronounced  to  possess  a  large 
organ  of  "  adhesiveness,"  a  still  larger  one  of  "  firm- 
ness," and  as  large  of  "  conscientiousness,"  —  hence 
if  I  should  turn  out  a  very  weather-cock  and  a 
most  pitiful  truckler,  you  will  have  data  for  the 
exercise  of  faith  maugre  common-sense,  common 
justice,  and  the  testimony  of  your  eyes  and  ears. 

How  do  you  go  on  for  society,  for  communion  of 
spirit,  the  drop  of  nectar  in  the  cup  of  mortals  ? 
But  why  do  I  say  the  drop  ?  The  mind  that  feels 
its  value  will  get  large  draughts  from  some  source, 
if  denied  it  in  the  most  commonly  chosen  way. 

'Mid  the  rich  store  of  nature's  gifts  to  mau 
Each  has  his  loves,  close  wedded  to  his  soul 
By  fine  association's  golden  links. 
As  the  Great  Spirit  bids  creation  teem 
With  conscious  being  and  intelligence. 
So  man,  His  miniature  resemblance,  gives 
To  matter's  every  form  a  speaking  soul. 
An  emanation  from  his  spirit's  fount, 
The  impress  true  of  its  peculiar  seal. 
Here  finds  he  thy  best  image,  sympathy. 

Beautiful  ego-ism,  to  quote  one's  own.  But  where 
is  not  this  same  ego  ?  The  martyr  at  the  stake 
seeks  its  gratification  as  much  as  the  court  syco- 
phant, the  difference  lying  in  the  comparative  dig- 
nity and  beauty  of  the  two  egos.  People  absurdly 
talk  of  self-denial.  Why,  there  is  none  in  Virtue 
to  a  being  of  moral  excellence :  the  greatest  torture 
to  such  a  soul  would  be  to  run  counter  to  the  dic- 
tates of  conscience ;  to  wallow  in  the  slough  of 
meanness,  deception,  revenge,  or  sensuality.  This 
vol.  I.  —  6 


82 


Effects  of  Nonconformity. 


[griff, 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Bray, 
end  of  Feb, 
1&12. 


was  Paul's  idea  in  the  1st  chap,  of  2d  Epistle  to 
Timothy  (I  think  that  is  the  passage). 

I  have  had  a  weary  week.  At  the  beginning 
more  than  the  usual  amount  of  cooled  glances,  and 
exhortations  to  the  suppression  of  self-conceit. 
The  former  are  so  many  hailstones  that  make  me 
wrap  more  closely  around  me  the  mantle  of  deter- 
minate purpose ;  the  latter  are  needful,  and  liave  a 
tendency  to  exercise  forbearance,  that  well  repays 
the  temporary  smart.  The  heart  knoweth  its  own, 
whether  bitterness  or  joy :  let  us,  dearest,  beware 
how  we,  even  ivith  good  intentions^  press  a  finger's 
weight  on  the  already  bruised. 

And  about  the  same  date  she  writes  to  Mrs. 
Bray :  — 
I  must  relieve  my  conscience  before  I  go  to  bed  by 
entering  a  protest  against  every  word  or  accent  of 
discontent  that  I  uttered  this  morning.  If  I  have 
ever  complained  of  any  person  or  circumstance,  I 
do  penance  by  eating  my  own  words.  When  my 
real  self  has  regained  its  place,  I  can  shake  off  my 
troubles  "  like  dewdrops  from  the  lion's  mane,"  and 
then  I  feel  the  baseness  of  imputing  my  sorrows  to 
others  rather  than  to  my  own  pitiful  weakness. 
But  I  do  not  write  for  your  forgiveness ;  that  I 
know  I  have.  I  only  want  to  satisfy  my  indigna- 
tion against  myself. 

The  conclusion  of  the  matter  was,  that  Mr. 
Evans  withdrew  his  house  from  the  agent's 
hands,  and  his  daughter  went  to  stay  at  Griff, 
with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Isaac  Evans,  whence  she 
writes  the  following  letter  to  Mrs.  Pears :  — 
I  have  just  been  climbing  up  some  favourite  old 
ThumiT"'  hills,  or  rather  liillr.cks,  and  if  I  could  see  you  I 
March,  1842.  gjiould  find  mysclf  in  high  preparation  for  one  of 


Letter  to 


1842.]  Visit  to  Brother  at  Griff.  83 

my  thorough  chats.  Oh  if  I  could  transport  my-  Letter  to 
self  to  your  dining-room,  where  I  guess  you  and  Thursday,'' 
Mr.  Pears  are  sittmg  in  anticipation  of  tea,  carrying  ^"''*''  ^^^' 
on  no  "  holy  war,"  but  at  peace  with  the  world  and 
its  opinions,  or,  if  ever  you  do  battle,  in  the  happy 
ranks  of  the  majority,  I  could  kiss  you  into  sublime 
liberality !  How  are  you  and  your  dear  husband 
and  children  ?  It  seems  a  week  of  years  instead  of 
days  since  you  said  to  me  your  kind  good-bye, 
and  as  I  have  tried  your  magnanimity  quite  long 
enough  to  be  assured  that  you  will  not  let  me  hear 
of  you  without  a  beseeching  letter  from  me,  I 
snatch  half  an  hour  from  a  too  short  day  for  the 
generous  purpose  of  doubly  qualifying  myself,  first 
by  pouring  out  the  contents  of  my  gossip-wallet,  and 
then  quietly  awaiting  the  news  I  want  to  hear  of 
you.  I  have  here  in  every  way  abundant  and  un- 
looked-for blessings,  —  delicacy  and  consideration 
from  all  whom  I  have  seen ;  and  I  really  begin  to 
recant  my  old  belief  about  the  indifference  of  all 
the  world  towards  me,  for  my  acquaintances  of  this 
neighbourhood  seem  to  seek  an  opportunity  of 
smiling  on  me  in  spite  of  my  heresy.  All  these 
things,  however,  are  but  the  fringe  and  ribbons  of 
happiness.  They  are  adherent  not  mherent,  and 
without  any  affectation  I  feel  myself  to  be  acquir- 
ing what  I  must  hold  to  be  a  precious  possession, 
an  independence  of  what  is  baptised  by  the  world 
external  good.  There  are  externals  (at  least,  they 
are  such  in  common  thought)  that  I  could  ill  part 
with,  —  the  deep,  blue,  glorious  heavens,  bending  as 
they  do  over  all,  presenting  the  same  arch,  emblem 
of  a  truer  omnipresence,  wherever  we  may  be 
chased,  and  all  the  sweet  peace-breathing  sights 
and  sounds  of  this  lovely  earth.     These,  and  the 


84  Regrets  her  Impetuosity.  [grifp, 

Letter  to      tlioughts  of  the  good  and  great,  are  an  inexhaus- 

Thuraday?'    tible  world  of   delight;  and  the  felt  desire  to  be 

arch,  1842.  ^^^  ^^   ^^^j  ^^^  desigu  witli  the  great  mind  that 

has  laid  open  to  us  these  treasures  is  the  sun  that 
warms  and  fructifies  it.  I  am  more  and  more  im- 
pressed with  the  duty  of  finding  happiness.  On  a 
retrospection  of  the  past  month,  I  regret  nothing  so 
much  as  my  own  impetuosity  both  of  feeling  and 
judging.  I  am  not  inclined  to  be  sanguine  as  to 
my  dear  father's  future  determination,  and  I  some- 
times have  an  intensely  vivid  consciousness,  which 
I  only  allow  to  be  a  fleeting  one,  of  all  that  is  pain- 
ful and  that  has  been  so.  I  can  only  learn  that  my 
father  has  commenced  his  alterations  at  Packing- 
ton,  but  he  only  appears  to  be  temporarily  acquies- 
cing in  my  brother's  advice  "  not  to  be  in  a  hurry." 
I  do  not  intend  to  remain  here  longer  than  three 
weeks,  or,  at  the  very  farthest,  a  month  ;  and  if  I  am 
not  then  recalled,  I  shall  write  for  definite  direc- 
tions. I  must  have  a  home,  not  a  visiting  place.  I 
wish  you  would  learn  something  from  my  father, 
and  send  me  word  how  he  seems  disposed.  T  hope 
you  get  long  walks  on  these  beautiful  days.  You 
would  love  to  hear  the  choristers  we  have  here ; 
they  are  hymning  away  incessantly.  Can  you  not 
drive  over  and  see  me  ?  Do  come  by  hook  or  by 
crook.  Why,  Mr.  Pears  could  almost  walk  hither. 
I  am  becoming  very  hurried,  for  most  welcome  tea 
is  in  the  vicinity,  and  I  must  be  busy  after  I  have 
imbibed  its  inspiration.  You  will  write  to  me  to- 
morrow, will  you  not  ?  and  pray  insist  on  Mr. 
Pears  writing  an  appendix.  I  had  a  note  from 
Mrs.  Bray  this  morning,  and  I  liked  it  better  than 
my  breakfast.  So  do  give  me  a  little  treat  on  Sat- 
urday.   Blessings  on  you  and  yours,  as  all  forlorn 


1842.]  Meets  Miss  Sara  Hennell.  85 

beggars  have  said  from  time  immemorial  to  their 
benefactors  ;  but  real  feeling,  you  know,  will  some- 
times slip  into  a  hackneyed  guise. 

Miss  Evans  remained  for  about  three  weeks 
at  Griff,  at  the  end  of  which  time,  through  the 
intervention  of  her  brother,  the  Brays,  and  Miss 
Eebecca  Franklin,  the  father  was  very  glad  to 
receive  her  again,  and  she  resumed  going  to 
church  as  before. 

It  will  be  seen  from  a  subsequent  noteworthy 
letter  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell,  dated  19th  October, 
1843,  that  Miss  Evans's  view  of  the  best  course 
to  be  pursued  under  similar  circumstances  had 
already  undergone  considerable  modifications, 
and  in  the  last  year  of  her  life  she  told  me  that, 
although  she  did  not  think  she  had  been  to 
blame,  few  things  had  occasioned  her  more 
regret  than  this  temporary  collision  with  her 
father,  which  might,  she  thought,  have  been 
avoided  by  a  little  management. 

In  July  of  this  year  (1842)  Miss  Sara  Hen- 
nell —  the  gifted  sister  of  Mrs.  Bray  —  came  to 
Eosehill,  on  one  of  her  occasional  visits  to  Cov- 
entry, and  completed  the  trio  destined  to  exert 
the  most  important  influence  over  the  life  of 
George  Eliot.  The  individual  characters  of 
these  three  friends,  and  the  relations  each  bore 
to  their  correspondent,  will  unfold  themselves 
in  the  letters.  It  is  only  necessary  here  to  say 
that  the  two  ladies  —  Cara  and  Sara,  as  they 
are  always  addressed  —  now  became  like  sisters 
to  Miss  Evans,  and  Mr.  Bray  her  most  intimate 
male  friend,  and  the  letters  to  them  form  an 
almost  unbroken  chain  during  all  the  remainder 
of  George  Eliot's  life. 


86 


Intimacy  with  Miss  Hennell.     [foleshill, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
30th  Aug. 
1842. 

Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
Friday, 
Sept.  1842. 


To  us  Miss  Sara  Hennell  is  the  most  impor- 
tant correspondent,  for  it  is  to  her  that  Miss 
Evans  mainly  turns  now  for  intellectual  sym- 
pathy ;  to  Mrs.  Bray  when  she  is  in  pain  or 
trouble,  and  wants  affectionate  companionship : 
with  Mr.  Bray  she  quarrels,  and  the  humorous 
side  of  her  nature  is  brought  out.  Every  good 
story  goes  to  him,  with  a  certainty  that  it  will 
be  appreciated.  With  all  three  it  is  a  beautiful 
and  consistent  friendship,  running  like  a  thread 
through  the  woof  of  the  coming  thirty-eight 
years.  For  the  next  twelve  years,  as  will  be 
seen,  it  is  quite  the  most  important  thread ;  and 
although  later  it  naturally  became  very  much 
less  important,  it  was  never  dropped  except  for 
a  moment  in  1854,  owing  to  a  brief  misunder- 
standing of  letters,  which  will  appear  in  its  due 
place. 

The  following  letters  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell 

show  what  was  passing  from  30th  Avigust,  1842, 

to  April,  1843  :  — 

How  I  have  delighted  in  the  thought  that  there  are 

beings  who  are  better  than  their  promises  beyond 

the  regions  of  waking  and  sleeping  dreams. 

I  liave  not  yet  accounted  for  my  tardiness  in 
writing,  whicli,  I  assure  you,  is  no  representation 
of  my  usual  habit,  and  has  been  occasioned  only 
by  a  week's  indisposition,  the  foster-parent  to  the 
ill-favoured  offspring  of  my  character  and  circum- 
stances, gloom  and  stolidity,  and  I  could  not  write 
to  you  with  such  companions  to  my  thought.  I 
am  anxious  that  you  should  not  imagine  me  un- 
happy even  in  my  most  melancholy  moods,  for  I 
hol(l  all  indulgence  of  sadness  that  has  the  slightest 
tincture  of  discontent  to  be  a  grave  delinquency.     I 


1842.]  Miss  Mary  Henneirs  Illness.  87 

think  there  can  be  few  who  more  truly  feel  than  Letter  to 
I  that  this  is  a  world  of  bliss  and  beauty, —  that  is,  Hlnneur 
that  bliss  and  beauty  are  the  end,  the  tendency  of  septr^842. 
creation ;  and  evils  are  the  shadows  that  are  the 
only  conditions  of  light  in  the  picture,  and  I  live 
in  much,  much  enjoyment. 

I  am  beginning  to  enjoy  the  "  Eneid,"  though,  I 
suppose,  much  in  the  same  way  as  the  uninitiated 
enjoy  wine  compared  with  the  connoisseurs. 

I  have  been  in  high  displeasure  with  myself,  have  Letter  to 
thought  my  soul  only  fit  for  limbo  to  keep  company  Henneur 
with  other  abortions,  and  my  life  the  shallowest,  \l^2°^' 
muddiest,  most  unblessing  stream.  Having  got  my 
head  above  this  slough  of  despond,  I  feel  quite 
inclined  to  tell  you  how  much  pleasure  your  letter 
gave  me.  You  observe  in  your  note  that  some 
persons  say  the  unsatisfied  longing  we  feel  in  our- 
selves for  something  better  than  the  greatest  per- 
fection to  be  found  on  earth  is  a  proof  that  the  true 
object  of  our  desires  lies  beyond  it.  Assuredly  this 
earth  is  not  the  home  of  the  spirit  —  it  will  rest 
only  in  the  bosom  of  the  Infinite.  But  the  non- 
satisfaction  of  the  affections  and  intellect  being  in- 
separable from  the  unspeakable  advantage  of  such 
a  mind  as  that  of  man  in  connection  with  his 
corporal  condition  and  terrene  destiny,  forms  not 
at  present  an  argument  with  me  for  the  realisation 
of  particular  desires. 

The    next   letter  refers    to  Miss  Mary  Hen- 
nell's  ^  last  illness. 
I  cannot  help  wishing  to  tell  you,  now  that  you  Letter  to 
are  in  trouble  and  anxiety,  how  dear  you  are  to  He^eu^* 


1  Miss  Mary  Hennell  was  the  author  of  "An  Outline  of  the 
Various  Social  Systems  founded  on  the  Principle  of  Co-operation," 
published  in  1841,  • 


7th  Jan. 
1843. 


88 


Excursions  with  Bi'ays.        [foleshill, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
7th  Jan. 
1843. 


Letter  to 
Jliss  Sara 
Hennell, 
April,  1843. 


me,  and  how  the  recollection  of  you  is  ever  freshen- 
ing in  my  mind.  You  have  need  of  all  your  cheeri- 
ness  and  energy ;  and  if  they  do  not  fail,  I  think  it 
almost  enviable,  as  far  as  one's  self  is  concerned 
(not,  of  course,  when  the  sufferer  is  remembered), 
to  have  the  care  of  a  sick-room,  with  its  twilight 
and  tiptoe  stillness,  and  helpful  activity.  I  have 
always  had  a  peculiarly  peaceful  feeling  in  such 
a  scene. 

Again,  after  the  death  of  Miss  Mary  Hennell, 
there  is  a  letter  to  her  sister  Sara. 
We  always  find  that  our  stock  of  appreciated  good 
can  never  be  really  diminished.  AVhen  the  chief 
desire  of  the  eyes  is  taken,  we  can  afford  a  gaze  to 
hitherto  unnoticed  possessions  ;  and  even  when  the 
topmost  boughs  are  lopped,  a  thousand  shoots  spring 
from  below  with  the  energy  of  new  life.  So  it  will 
be  with  you ;  but  you  cannot  yet  look  beyond  the 
present,  nor  is  it  desirable  that  you  should.  It 
would  not  be  well  for  us  to  overleap  one  grade  of 
joy  or  suffering :  our  life  would  lose  its  complete- 
ness and  beauty. 

Eosehill  not  only  afforded  a  pleasant  variety 
in  the  Coventry  life,  as  most  visitors  to  the 
town  of  any  note  found  their  way  there,  but  the 
Brays  were  also  frequently  in  the  habit  of  making 
little  holiday  excursions,  in  many  of  which  Miss 
Evans  now  joined.  Thus  we  find  them  in  May, 
1843,  all  going  to  Stratford  and  Malvern,  to- 
gether with  Mr.  Charles  Hennell  and  Miss  Sara 
Hennell,  for  a  week ;  and  again  in  July  of  that 
year  the  same  party,  accompanied  by  Miss 
Brabant,  daughter  of  Dr.  Brabant  of  Devizes, 
went  on  a  fortnight's  tour,  visiting  Tenby 
amongst    other    places.      This   trip    is   chiefly 


1843.]  Charles  HenneWs  Marriage.  89 

memorable  from  the  fact  that  it  was  indu-ectly 
responsible  for  Miss  Evans  undertaking  the 
translation  of  Strauss's  "  Leben  Jesu."  For  Miss 
Brabant  (to  whom  the  translation  had  been  con- 
fided by  Mr,  Joseph  Parkes  of  Bii"mingham  and 
a  group  of  friends)  became  engaged  to  be  mar- 
ried to  Mr.  Charles  Hennell ;  and  shortly  after 
her  marriage  she  handed  the  work  over  to  Miss 
Evans. 

In  the  next  two  letters  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell 
there  are  allusions  to  the  approaching  marriage, 
which  took  place  in  London  on  1st  November, 
1843,  —  the  Brays  and  Miss  Evans  being  present. 
Many  thanks  for  procuring  me  the  hymns  and  an-  Letter  to 
thems.    I  was  right  glad  to  play  "  Ancient  of  Ages  "  Heunefr 
again,  and  I  shall  like  still  better  to  sing  it  with  Jg^s.^"^*" 
you  when  we  meet.     That  that  is  to  be  so  soon,  and 
under  circumstances  so  joyful,  are  among  the  mira- 
hilia  of   this  changing  world.     To  see  and   re-see 
such  a  cluster  of  not  indifferent  persons  as  the  pro- 
gramme for  the  wedding  gives,  will  be  almost  too 
large  a  bonne  houche. 

I  saw  Eobert  Owen  yesterday,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Bray  ha^^[ng  kindly  asked  me  to  dine  with  him, 
and  I  think  if  his  system  prosper  it  will  be  in  spite 
of  its  founder,  and  not  because  of  his  advocacy. 

The  next  letter  to  Mrs.  Bray  gives  a  pleasant 
glimpse  of  their  studies  together,  and  of  the  little 
musical  society  that  was  in  the  habit  of  meeting 
at  Eosehill  to  play  concerted  pieces. 
I  only  wish  you  would   change   houses  with  the  Letter  to 
mayor,  that  I  might  get  to  you  when  I  would.     I  no^date?^' 
send  you  the  first  part  of  "  Wallenstein,"  with  the  ""' 
proposition  that  we  should  study  that  in  conjunction 
with  the  "  Thirty  Years'  War  "  as  I  happen  to  have 


1843 


1S43, 


90  Reading  with  Mrs.  Bray,      [folsshill, 

Letter  to  a  loose  copy.  We  had  better  omit  the  "  Lager,"  and 
no"date?^'  begin  "  Die  Piccolomini."  You  shall  have  "  Joan  of 
Arc,"  my  grand  favourite,  as  a  'bonne  houche  when 
you  have  got  through  "  Wallenstein "  which  will 
amply  repay  you  for  any  trouble  in  translating  it, 
and  is  not  more  difficult  than  your  reading  ought 
to  be  now.  I  have  skimmed  Manzoni,  who  has 
suffered  sadly  in  being  poured  out  of  silver  into 
pewter.  The  chapter  on  Philosophy  and  Theology 
is  worth  reading.  Miss  Brabant  sent  me  my 
Hyperion  with  a  note  the  other  day.  She  had  put 
no  direction  besides  Coventry,  and  the  parcel  had 
consequently  been  sent  to  some  other  Miss  Evans, 
and  my  choice  little  sentimental  treasures,  alas  ! 
exposed  to  vulgar  gaze.  Thank  you  for  the  manual, 
which  I  have  had  so  long.  I  trust  I  did  not  bestow 
those  scratches  on  the  cover.  I  have  been  trying 
to  find  a  French  book  that  you  were  not  likely  to 
have  read,  but  I  do  not  think  I  have  one,  unless  it 
be  "  Gil  Bias,"  which  you  are  perhaps  too  virtuous 
to  have  read,  though  how  any  one  can  opine  it  to 
have  a  vicious  tendency  I  am  at  a  loss  to  conjecture. 
They  might  as  well  say  that  to  condemn  a  person 
to  eat  a  whole  plum-pudding  would  deprive  him  of 
all  future  relish  for  plain  food.  I  have  had  a  visitor 
ever  since  Saturday,  and  she  will  stay  till  Saturday 
again.  I  cannot  desire  that  you  should  W7iask 
Violin  and  Flute,  unless  a  postponement  would  be 
in  every  way  as  agreeable  to  you  and  them.  If  you 
have  them,  you  will  give  them  much  more  pleasure 
as  Piano  than  I,  so  do  not  think  of  me  in  the 
matter  for  a  moment.  Good-bye ;  and  remember  to 
treat  your  cold  as  if  it  were  an  orphan's  cold,  or  a 
widow's  cold,  or  any  one's  cold  but  your  own. 

The    foUowimr   is    the   letter    liefore    referred 


1843.]  TriUh  of  FediiKj.  91 

to  as  containing  an  important  and  noteworthy 
declaration  of  opinion  on  the   very   interesting 
qnestion  of  conformity  :  — 
The  first  thing  I  have  to  say  to  you  is  to  entreat  Letter  to 
that  you  and  Mrs.  Hennell  will  not  perplex  your-  Henneii, 
selves  for  a  moment  about  my  accommodation  dur-  1.^3. 
ing  the  night.     I  am  so  well  now  that  a  hearthrug 
would  be  as  luxurious  a  couch  as  I  should  need, 
and  I  defy  anything  short  of  a  kettledrum  or  my 
conscience  to  keep  me  awake  after  a  long  day. 

The  subject  of  your  conversation  with  Miss  D.  is 
a  very  important  one,  and  worth  an  essay.  I  will 
not  now  inflict  one  of  mine  on  you,  but  I  will  tell 
you,  as  briefly  as  possible,  my  present  opinion, 
which  you  know  is  contrary  to  the  one  I  held  in 
the  first  instance.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  such 
a  change  of  sentiment  is  likely  to  happen  to  most 
persons  whose  views  on  religious  matters  undergo  a 
change  early  in  life.  The  first  impulse  of  a  young 
and  ingenuous  mind  is  to  withhold  the  slightest 
sanction  from  all  that  contains  even  a  mixture  of 
supposed  error.  When  the  soul  is  just  liberated 
from  the  wretched  giant's  bed  of  dogmas  on  which 
it  has  been  racked  and  stretched  ever  since  it  began 
to  think,  there  is  a  feeling  of  exultation  and  strong 
hope.  We  think  we  shall  run  well  when  we  have 
the  full  use  of  our  limbs  and  the  bracing  air  of 
independence,  and  we  believe  that  we  shall  soon 
obtain  something  positive  which  will  not  only  more 
than  compensate  us  for  what  we  have  renounced, 
but  will  be  so  well  worth  offering  to  others  that  we 
may  venture  to  proselytise  as  fast  as  our  zeal  for  truth 
may  prompt  us.  But  a  year  or  two  of  reflection, 
and  the  experience  of  our  own  miserable  weakness, 
which  will  ill  afford  to  part  even  with  the  crutch  of 


92  Quackery  of  Infidelity.       [foleshill, 

Letter  to  siiperstition,  must,  I  think,  effect  a  change.  Specu- 
Hemien'i^  latlvc  ti'uth  bcglns  to  appear  but  a  shadow  of  indi- 
19th  Oct.  vidual  minds.  Agreement  between  intellects  seems 
unattainable,  and  we  turn  to  the  truth  of  feeling  as 
the  only  universal  bond  of  union.  We  find  that 
the  intellectual  errors  which  we  once  fancied  were 
a  mere  incrustation  have  grown  into  the  living 
body,  and  that  we  cannot  in  the  majority  of  cases 
wrench  them  away  without  destroymg  vitality. 
"We  begin  to  find  tliat  with  individuals,  as  with 
nations,  the  only  safe  revolution  is  one  arising  out 
of  the  wants  which  their  own  progress  has  gen- 
erated. It  is  the  quackery  of  infidelity  to  suppose 
that  it  has  a  nostrum  for  all  mankind,  and  to  say  to 
all  and  singular,  "  Swallow  my  opinions  and  you 
shall  be  whole."  If,  then,  we  are  debarred  by  such 
considerations  from  trying  to  reorganise  opinions, 
are  we  to  remain  aloof  from  our  fellow-creatures  on 
occasions  when  we  may  fully  sympathise  with  the 
feelings  exercised,  although  our  own  have  been 
melted  into  another  mould  ?  Ought  we  not  on 
every  opportunity  to  seek  to  have  our  feelings  in 
harmony,  though  not  in  union,  with  those  who  are 
often  richer  in  the  fruits  of  faith,  though  not  in 
reason,  than  ourselves  ?  The  results  of  nonconfor- 
mity in  a  family  are  just  an  epitome  of  what  hap- 
pens on  a  larger  scale  in  the  world.  An  influential 
member  chooses  to  omit  an  observance  which,  in 
the  minds  of  all  the  rest,  is  associated  with  what  is 
'  highest  and  most  venerable.     He  cannot  make  his 

reasons  intelligible,  and  so  his  conduct  is  regarded 
as  a  relaxation  of  the  hold  that  moral  ties  had  on 
him  previously.  The  rest  are  infected  with  the 
disease  they  imagine  in  him.  All  the  screws  by 
which  order  was  maintained  are  loosened,  and  in 


1843. j  Dangers  of  Nonconformity.  93 

more  than  one  case  a  person's  happiness  may  be  Letter  to 
ruined  by  the  confusion  of  ideas  wliich  took  the  Henneur 
form  of  principles.  But,  it  may  be  said,  how  then  istt.^*^*' 
are  we  to  do  anything  towards  the  advancement  of 
mankind?  Are  we  to  go  on  cherishing  superstitions 
out  of  a  fear  that  seems  inconsistent  with  any  faith 
in  a  Supreme  Being  ?  I  think  the  best  and  the 
only  way  of  fulfilling  our  mission  is  to  sow  good 
seed  in  good  {i.  e.,  prepared)  ground,  and  not  to  root 
up  tares  where  we  must  inevitably  gather  all  the 
wheat  with  them.  We  cannot  flight  and  struggle 
enough  for  freedom  of  inquiry,  and  we  need  not 
be  idle  in  impartmg  all  that  is  pure  and  lovely  to 
children  whose  minds  are  unbespoken.  Those  who 
can  write,  let  them  do  it  as  boldly  as  they  like,  — = 
and  let  no  one  hesitate  at  proper  seasons  to  make 
a  full  c6»?i-fession  (far  better  than  profession).  St. 
Paul's  reasoning  about  the  conduct  of  the  strong 
towards  the  weak,  in  the  14th  and  15th  chapters  of 
Eomans,  is  just  in  point.  But  I  have  not  said  half 
what  I  meant  to  say.  There  are  so  many  aspects 
in  which  the  subject  might  be  presented,  that  it  is 
useless  to  attempt  to  exhaust  it.  I  fear  I  have 
written  very  unintelligibly,  for  it  is  rather  late, 
and  I  am  so  cold  that  my  thoughts  are  almost 
frozen. 

After  Miss  Brabant's  marriage  to  Mr.  Charles 
Hennell,  Miss  Evans  went  to  stay  for  a  week  or 
two  with  Dr.  Brabant  at  Devizes,  and  some  time 
about  the  beginning  of  January,  1844,  the  propo- 
sition was  made  for  the  transfer  of  the  transla- 
tion of  Strauss  from  Mrs.  Charles  Hennell.  At 
the  end  of  April,  1844,  Mrs.  Bray  writes  to  Miss 
Sara  Hennell  that  Miss  Evans  is  "working  away 
at  Strauss  six  pages  a-day,"  and  the  next  letter 


94 


Child's  Heal  Fcelmgs.  [folesuill, 


Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 
Heniiell, 
Sunday. 
May,  l&H. 


from  Miss  Evans  refers  to  the  beginning  of  the 

undertaking. 
To  begin  with  business,  I  send  you  on  the  other 
side  the  translations  you  wished  (Strauss),  but  they 
are  perhaps  no  improvements  on  what  you  had 
done.  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  learn  from  you  the 
particulars  as  to  the  mode  of  publication,  —  who  are 
the  parties  that  will  find  the  funds,  and  whether 
the  manuscripts  are  to  be  put  into  the  hands  of 
any  one  when  complete,  or  whether  they  are  to  go 
directly  from  me  to  the  publishers  ?  I  was  very 
foolish  not  to  imagine  about  these  things  in  the 
first  instance,  but  ways  and  means  are  always  after- 
thoughts with  me. 

You  will  soon  be  settled  and  enjoying  the  blessed 
spring  and  summer  time,  I  hope  you  are  looking 
forward  to  it  with  as  much  delight  as  I.  One  has 
to  spend  so  many  years  in  learning  how  to  be 
happy.  I  am  just  beginning  to  make  some  pro- 
gress in  the  science,  and  I  hope  to  disprove  Young's 
theory  that  "  as  soon  as  we  have  found  the  key  of 
life,  it  opes  the  gates  of  death."  Every  year  strips 
us  of  at  least  one  vain  expectation,  and  teaches  us 
to  reckon  some  solid  good  in  its  stead.  I  never  will 
believe  tliat  our  youngest  days  are  our  happiest. 
What  a  miserable  augury  for  the  progress  of  the 
race  and  the  destination  of  the  individual,  if  the 
more  matured  and  enlightened  state  is  the  less 
happy  one!  Childhood  is  only  the  beautiful  and 
happy  time  in  contemplation  and  retrospect ;  to 
the  child  it  is  full  of  deep  sorrows,  the  meaning  of 
which  is  unknown.  Witness  colic  and  whooping- 
cough  and  dread  of  ghosts,  to  say  nothing  of  hell 
and  Satan,  and  an  offended  Deity  in  the  sky,  who 
was  angry  wlien   T   wanted    too    much   plum-cake. 


.1844.J 


Strauss  Translation. 


95 


Then  the  sorrows  of  older  persons,  which  children 
see  but  cannot  understand,  are  worse  than  all.  All 
this  to  prove  that  we  are  happier  than  when  we 
were  seven  years  old,  and  that  we  shall  be  happier 
when  we  are  forty  than  we  are  now,  which  I  call 
a  comfortable  doctrine,  and  one  worth  trying  to 
believe  !  I  am  sitting  with  father,  who  every  now 
and  then  jerks  off'  my  attention  to  the  history  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  which  he  is  reading. 

On   the    1st   July,   1844,  there  was  another 
little  trip  with  the  Brays  to  the  Cumberland 
Lakes,  this  time  returning  by  Manchester  and 
Liverpool,   and    on   reaching   home   about    the 
beginning    of    August    there   is    the   following 
letter :  — 
Can  I  have  the  remaining  volumes  of  Strauss,  ex- 
cepting any  part  that  you  may  choose  to  keep  for 
your  own  use  ?     If  you  could  also  send  me  such 
parts  of  the  introduction  and  first  section  as  you 
wish  me  to  look  over,  I  should  like  to  despatch  that 
business  at  intervals,  when  I  am  not  inspired  for 
more  thorough  labour.     Thank  you  for  the  encour- 
agement you  send  me.     I  only  need  it  when  my 
head  is  weak  and  I  am  unable  to  do  much.     Then 
I  sicken  at  the  idea  of  having  Strauss  in  my  head 
and  on  my  hands  for  a  lustrum,  instead  of  saying 
good-bye  to  him  in  a  year.     When  I  can  work  fast 
I  am  never  weary,  nor  do  I  regret  either  that  the 
work  has  been  begun  or  that  I  have  undertaken  it. 
I  am  only  inclined  to  vow  that  I  will  never  trans- 
late again,  if  I  live  to  correct  the  sheets  for  Strauss. 
My  first  page  is  257. 

Pray  tell  Mrs.  C.  Hennell  that  no  apology  was 
needed  for  the  very  good  translation  she  has  sent 
me.     I  shall  be  glad  to  avail  myself  of  it  to  the 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Heimell, 
Sunday, 
May,  1844. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Heimell, 
Friday, 
Aug.  1844. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
31st  Oct. 
1844. 


96 


Strauss  Translation.  [folesuill, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Heunell, 
31st  Oct. 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Bray, 
end  of  1844. 


Lotter  to 
Mrs.  Bray, 
Sunday, 
beginning 
•f  1845. 


last  word,  for  I  am  thoroughly  tired  of  my  own 
garb  for  Strauss's  thoughts.  I  hope  the  introduc- 
tion, &c.,  will  be  ready  by  the  end  of  November, 
when  I  hope  to  have  put  the  last  words  to  the  first 
volume.  I  am  awfully  afraid  of  my  own  transla- 
tion, and  I  want  you  to  come  and  comfort  me.  I 
am  relapsing  into  heathen  darkness  about  everything 
but  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and  John.  "  Heaven  has 
sent  leanness  into  my  soul "  —  for  reviling  them,  I 
suppose.  This  lovely  autumn !  Have  you  enjoyed 
its  long  shadows  and  fresh  breezes  ? 

I  do  not  think  it  was  kind  to  Strauss  (I  knew  he 
was  handsome)  to  tell  him  that  a  young  lady  M'as 
translating  his  book.  I  am  sure  he  must  have 
some  twinges  of  alarm  to  think  he  was  dependent 
on  that  most  contemptible  specimen  of  the  human 
being  for  his  English  reputation.  By  the  way,  I 
never  said  that  the  Canons  of  the  Council  of  Nice, 
or  the  Confession  of  Augsburg,  or  even  the  Thirty- 
nine  Articles,  are  suggestive  of  poetrj^  I  imagine 
no  dogmas  can  be.  But  surely  Christianity,  with 
its  Hebrew  retrospect  and  millennial  hopes,  the 
heroism  and  divine  sorrow  of  its  founder,  and  all 
its  glorious  army  of  martyrs,  might  supply  and  has 
supplied  a  strong  impulse  not  only  to  poetry  but  to 
all  the  Fine  Arts.  Mr.  Pears  is  coming  home  from 
Malvern  to-night,  and  the  children  are  coming  to 
tea  with  me,  so  that  I  have  to  make  haste  with  my 
afternoon  matters.  Beautiful  little  Susan  has  been 
blowing  bubbles,  and  looking  like  an  angel  at  sport. 
I  am  quite  happy,  only  sometimes  feeling  "  the 
weight  of  all  this  unintellio-ible  world." 

Your  books  are  come  for  the  school,  and  I  have 
co\ered  them,  —  at  least  those  that  I  think  you  will 
like  for  the  children ;    two  or  three  are  quite  for 


1845.]  Harriet  Martimau.  97 

grown-up  people.    What  an  exquisite  little  thing  that  Letter  to 
is  of  Harriet  Martineau's,  —  "  The  Crofton  Boys  " !  s^uud;^?^' 
I  have  had  some  delightful  crying  over  it.     There  isT'^"^'*^ 
are  two  or  three  lines  in  it  that  would  feed  one's 
soul  for  a  month.     Hugh's   mother   says    to   him, 
speaking   of   people  who   have  permanent   sorrow, 
"  They  soon  had  a  new  and  delicious  pleasure,  which 
none  but  the  bitterly  disappointed  can  feel,  —  the 
pleasure  of  rousing  their  souls  to  bear  pain,  and  of 
agreeing  with  God  silently,  when  nobody  knows  what 
is  in  their  hearts."     I  received  "  Sybil "  yesterday 
quite   safely,      I   am   not   utterly   disgusted   with 
D'Israeli.      The   man   hath   good   veins,  as   Bacon 
would  say,  but  there  is  not  enough  blood  in  them. 
The  17th  April  this  year  was  an  interesting 
day,  as   Miss   Evans  went  with  the  Brays  to 
Atherstone  Hall  and  met  Harriet  Martineau  for 
the   first  time.     It  will  be   seen  that   in  later 
years  there  was  considerable  intimacy  between 
them. 
If  you    think    any   of   my  future    manuscript   too  Letter  to 
untidy  for  the  printer,  only  mark  it  to  that  effect,  Heimei'r 
and  I  will  rewrite  it,  for  I  do  not  mind  that  me-  is45.^^'^'^ 
chanical  work ;  and  my  conscience  is  rather  uneasy 
lest  the   illegibility    of   my  hand    should   increase 
materially  the  expense  of  the  publication.     Do  not 
be  alarmed  because  I  am  not  well  just  now ;  I  shall 
be  better  very  soon,  and  I  am  not  really  disgusted 
with  Strauss.     I  only  fancy  so  sometimes,  as  I  do 
with  all  earthly  things. 

In  June  Mrs.  Bray  writes  to  Miss  Hennell  that 
Miss  Evans  "  looks  all  the  better  for  her  Lon- 
don trip.  I  never  saw  her  so  blooming  and 
buoyant ; "  but  the  two  next  letters  show  a 
relapse. 

VOL.  I. — 7 


98        Delay  in  Publication  of  Strauss,     [foleshill, 

Letter  to  Glad  am  I  that  some  one  can  enjoy  Strauss  !  The 
Henneur  million  Certainly  will  not,  and  I  have  ceased  to  sit 
(?fm5.""^'  down  to  him  with  any  relish.  I  should  work  much 
Letter  if  I  had  some  proof-sheets  coming  in  to  assure 
me  that  my  soul-stupefying  labour  is  not  in  vain. 
I  am  more  grateful  to  you  than  I  can  tell  you  for 
taking  the  trouble  you  do.  If  it  had  not  been  for 
your  interest  and  encouragement,  I  should  have 
been  almost  in  despair  by  this  time. 

And  agjain  a  little  later :  — 
I  begin  utterly  to  despair  that  Strauss  will  ever  be 
published,  unless  I  can  imitate  the  Rev.  Mr.  Davis, 
and  print  it  myself.  At  the  very  best,  if  we  go  on 
according  to  the  rate  of  procedure  hitherto,  the  book 
will  not  be  published  within  the  next  two  years. 
This  seems  dolorous  enough  to  me,  whose  only  real 
satisfaction  just  now  is  some  hope  that  I  am  not 
sowing  the  wind.  It  is  very  laughable  that  I  should 
be  irritated  about  a  thing  in  itself  so  trifling  as  a 
translation,  but  it  is  the  very  triviality  of  the  thing 
that  makes  delays  provoking.  The  difficulties  that 
attend  a  really  grand  undertaking  are  to  be  borne, 
but  things  should  run  smoothly  and  fast  when  they 
are  not  important  enough  to  demand  the  sacrifice  of 
one's  whole  soul.  The  second  volume  is  quite  ready. 
The  last  few  sections  were  written  under  anything 
but  favourable  circumstances.  They  are  not  Strauss's 
best  thoughts,  nor  are  they  put  into  his  translator's 
best  language,  but  I  have  not  courage  to  imitate 
Gibbon,  —  put  my  work  in  the  fire  and  begin  again. 
In  July,  1845,  there  seems  to  have  arisen 
some  difficulty  in  getting  in  the  cash  subscrip- 
tions for  the  publication.  Mr.  Charles  Hennell 
and  Mr.  Joseph  Parkes,  however,  exerted  them- 
selves in  the  matter,  and  £300  was  collected, 


1845.]  Strauss  Translation  Printing.  99 

and  the  following  letter  shows  the  relief  it  was 

to  Miss  Evans : — 
Thank  you  for  sending  me  the  good  news  so  soon,  Letter  to 
and  for  sympathising  in  my  need  of  encouragement,  uenneii. 
I  have  all  I  want  now,  and  shall  go  forward  on  buoy-  rvlniug," 
ant  wing.     I  am  glad  for  the  work's  sake,  glad  for  ''"'y'  ^'^'^ 
your   sake,  and  glad  for  "the  honourable  gentle- 
man's "  sake,  that  matters  have  turned  out  so  well. 
Pray  think  no  more  of  my  pens,  ink,  and  paper.     I 
would   gladly  give  much  more  towards  the  work 
than  these  and  my  English,  if  I  could  do  so  con- 
sistently with  duty. 

The    book   now  got   into   the   hands   of   the 

printers,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  next  letter :  — 
I  have  just  been  looking  over  some  of  the  revise,  Letter  to 
and  reading  again  your  sweet  letter  to  me  from  He'meur 
Hastings,  and  an  impulse  of  gratitude  and  love  will  "^"k-  i845. 
not  let  me  rest  without  writing  you  a  little  note, 
though  my  hand  has  almost  done  its  possible  for  the 
day  under  this  intense  heat.  You  do  not  guess  how 
much  pleasure  it  gives  me  to  look  over  your  pencil- 
lings,  —  they  prove  so  clearly  that  you  have  really 
entered  into  the  meaning  of  every  sentence,  and  it 
always  gives  one  satisfaction  to  see  the  evidence  of 
brain-work.  I  am  quite  indebted  to  you  for  your 
care,  and  I  feel  greatly  the  advantage  of  having  a 
friend  to  undertake  the  office  of  critic.  There  is  one 
word  I  must  mention,  —  Azazel  is  the  word  put  in 
the  original  of  the  Old  Testament  for  the  scape- 
goat :  now  I  imagine  there  is  some  dubiousness 
about  the  meaning,  and  that  Strauss  would  not 
think  it  right  to  translate  scape-goat,  because,  from 
the  tenor  of  his  sentence,  he  appears  to  include 
Azazel  with  the  evil  demons.  I  wonder  if  it  be 
supposed  by  any  one  that  Azazel  is  in  any  way  a 


100 


Strauss  "Proofs' 


[foleshill, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hermell, 
Aug.  1845. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
Friday  even- 
ing, autumn 
of  1845. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell,  no 
(late,  1845. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
25th  Sept. 
1845. 


distinct  being  from  the  goat.  I  know  no  Hebrew 
scholar,  and  have  access  to  no  Hebrew  lexicon. 
Have  you  asked  Mr.  Hennell  about  it  ? 

Your  letter  describes  what  I  have  felt  rather  than 
what  I  feel.  It  seems  as  if  my  affections  were 
quietly  sinking  down  to  temperate,  and  I  every  day 
seem  more  and  more  to  value  thought  rather  than 
feelingf.  I  do  not  think  this  is  man's  best  estate, 
but  it  is  better  than  what  I  have  sometimes  known. 

I  am  not  ashamed  to  confess  that  I  should  like 
to  be  idle  with  you  for  a  little  while,  more  than 
anything  else  I  can  think  of  just  now.  But  alas  ! 
leathery  brain  must  work  at  leathery  Strauss  for  a 
short  time  before  my  butterfly  days  come.  Oh,  how 
I  shall  spread  my  wings  then  !  Anent  the  Greek,  it 
would  produce  very  dreadful  cold  perspirations  in- 
deed in  me,  if  there  were  anything  amounting  to  a 
serious  error ;  but  this,  I  trust,  there  will  not  be. 
You  must  really  expect  me,  if  not  to  sleep  and  snore 
aliquando,  at  least  to  nod  in  the  course  of  some 
thousand  pages.  I  should  like  you  to  be  deliberate 
over  the  Schluss  Abhandlung.  It  is  the  only  part 
on  which  I  have  bestowed  much  pains,  for  the  dif- 
ficulty was  piquing,  not  piquant. 

I  am  never  pained  when  I  think  Strauss  right,  — 
but  in  many  cases  I  think  him  wrong,  as  every  man 
must  be  in  working  out  into  detail  an  idea  which 
has  general  truth,  but  is  only  one  element  in  a  per- 
fect theory,  —  not  a  perfect  theory  in  itself. 

I  am  delighted  with  the  proof.  The  type  and 
everything  else  are  just  what  I  wished.  To  see 
the  first  sheet  is  the  next  best  thing  to  seeing  the 
last,  which  I  hope  we  shall  all  have  done  this  time 
next  year.  There  is  a  very  misty  vision  of  a  trip 
to  the  Highlands  haunting  us  in  this  quarter.     The 


1845.]  Trip  to  Scotland.  101 

vision  would  be  much  pleasanter  if  Sara  were  one  Letter  to 
of  the  images  in  it.     You  would  surely  go  if  we  Heunen? 
went,  and  then  the  thing  would  be  perfect.     I  long  is^.^"^-" 
to  see  you,  for  you  are  becoming  a  sort  of  trans- 
figured existence,  a  mere  ideal  to  me,  and  I  have 
nothing  to  tell  me  of  your  real  flesh-and-blood  self 
but  sundry  very  useful  little  pencil  marks,  and  a 
scrap  of  Mrs.  Bray's  notes  now  and  then.     So  if  you 
would  have  me  bear  in  my  memory  your  own  self, 
and  not  some  aerial  creation  that  I  call  by  your 
name,  you  must  make  your  appearance. 

In  October  "  the  misty  vision  "  took  palpable 
shape,  and  the  Brays,  Miss  Hennell,  and  Miss 
Evans  had  a  delightful  fortnight  in  Scotland,  — 
visiting  Loch  Lomond  and  Loch    Katrine,  the 
Trossachs,    StirHng,    Edinburgh,    Melrose,    and 
Abbotsford.     They  were  away  from  the  14th  to 
the  28th,  and  on  returning  to  Coventry,  Strauss 
was  taken  up  again.     Miss  Hennell  was  reading 
the  translation,  and  aiding  with  suggestions  and 
corrections.     The  next  letter  to  her  seems  to  be 
dated  in  November. 
Please  to  tell  Mr.  Hennell  that  "habits  of  thought  "  Letter  to 
is  not  a  translation   of  the  word  partindarismus.  Hennen,* 
This  does  not  mean  national  idiosyncrasy,  but  is  a  ^°^"  ^^^^' 
word  which  characterises  that  idiosyncrasy.     If  he 
decidedly  objects  to  i^articularism,  ask  him  to  be  so 
good  as  substitute  exdusivencss,  though  there  is  a 
shade  of  meaning  in  particularismus  which  even 
that  does  not  express.     It  was  because  the  word 
could  only  be  translated  by  a  circumlocution  that 
I  ventured  to  anglicise  it. 

I  have  been  idle,  and  have  not  done  a  stroke  to  Letter  to 
the  prefaces,  but  they  shall  be  sent  as  soon  as  pos-  Henneii, 
sible.     Thanks  for  the  copy  of  the  Latin  preface  morning, 

Dec.(?)lS45. 


102  Title  of  Translation.  [foleshill, 

Letter  to      and   letter.      They   are   in   preconceived   harmony 

Miss  Sara  ■,-,  •  -•  n    ^.^  •    j. 

Henueii,       With  my  idcRS  01  the  appropriate. 

morSng,  I  will  Icave  the  titlepage  to  you  and  Mr.  Hennell. 

Dec.(?)i845.  T^^uks  for  the  news  in  your  last  extra  Blatt.  I 
am  glad  to  find  that  the  theological  organs  are 
beginning  to  deal  with  philosophy,  but  I  can  hardly 
imagine  your  writer  to  be  a  friend  with  a  false  cog- 
nisance on  his  shield.  These  dear  orthodox  people 
talk  so  simply  sometimes,  that  one  cannot  help 
fancying  them  satirists  of  their  own  doctrines  and 
fears,  though  they  mean  manfully  to  fight  against 
the  enemy.  I  should  like  if  possible  to  throw  the 
emphasis  on  critically  in  the  titlepage.  Strauss 
means  it  to  be  so ;  and  yet  I  do  not  know  how  we 
can  put  anything  better  than  what  you  say. 

Letter  to  I  seud  you  to-day  the  conclusion  of  the  chapter 

Miss  Sara  t  ,  t  r>      t  ,  i    •  <• 

Heuneii,  you  are  reading,  and,  unless  you  find  anything  or 
importance  to  be  rectified,  you  need  not  return  this 
to  me,  but  may  forward  the  whole  to  the  printer 
as  soon  as  you  have  read  it.  I  am  not  altogether 
satisfied  with  the  use  of  the  word  "  sacrament "  as 
applied  specifically  to  the  AhendmaM.  It  seems 
like  a  vulgarism  to  say  the  sacrament  for  one  thing, 
and  for  another  it  does  not  seem  a&original  enougli 
in  the  life  of  Jesus ;  but  I  know  of  no  other  word 
tliat  can  be  substituted.  I  have  altered  passover 
to  paschal  meal,  Ijut  to  irda-'x^a  is  used  in  the  New 
Testament  of  the  eating  of  the  lamb  par  excellence. 
You  rememl:)er  in  the  title  of  the  first  section  in  the 
Schluss  —  which  I  had  been  so  careless  as  to  omit 
—  the  expression  is  "  Nothwendiger  Uebergang  der 
Kritik  in  das  Dogma."  Now  Dogmatism  will  not 
do,  as  that  would  represent  Dogmatismua.  "  Dog- 
matik  "  is  the  idea,  I  believe,  —  i.  e.,  positive  theology. 
Is  it  allowable  to  say  dogmatics,  think  you  ?     I  do 


1846.]  Translator's  Difficulties.  103 

not  understand  how  the  want  of  MS.  can  be  so 
pressing,  as  I  have  only  had  one  proof  for  the  last 
fortnight.  It  seems  quite  dispiriting  to  me  now 
not  to  see  the  proofs  regularly.  I  have  had  a  mis- 
erable week  of  headache,  but  am  better  now,  and 
ready  for  work,  to  which  I  must  go. 

I  do  pity  you  with  the  drunken  Christmas  work-  Letter  to 
men  keeping  you  in  this  uncomfortable  interregnum.  Heuneu^ist 
But  do  not  go  distraught ;  the  spring  will  really  come,  "'*"■  ^^^' 
and  the  birds,  —  many  having  had  to  fly  across  the 
Atlantic,  which  is  farther  than  you  have  to  go  to 
establish  yourself.  I  could  easily  give  the  meaning 
of  the  Hebrew  word  in  question,  as  I  know  where 
to  borrow  a  lexicon.  But  observe  there  are  two 
Hebrew  words  untranslated  in  this  proof.  I  do  not 
think  it  will  do  to  give  the  English  in  one  place  and 
not  in  another  where  there  is  no  reason  for  such  a 
distinction,  —  and  there  is  not  here,  for  the  note  in 
this  proof  sounds  just  as  fee-fo-fum-ish  as  the  other 
without  any  translation.  I  could  not  alter  the 
"  troublesome,'*  because  it  is  the  nearest  usable  adjec- 
tive for  schiuierig,  which  stands  in  the  German.  I 
am  tired  of  inevitable  importants,  and  cannot  bear 
to  put  them  when  they  do  not  represent  the  German. 

I  have  been  sadly  occupied  for  the  last  ten  days.  Letter  to 
My  father  has  been  ill,  and  has  required  much  atten-  Hennen? 
tion,  and  my  own  head  was  very  middling  for  some 
days,  so  that  I  send  you  but  a  poor  cargo  of  new  MS. 
Indeed,  on  looking  through  the  last  quire  of  paper 
this  morning  for  the  purpose  of  putting  in  the  Greek, 
it  seemed  all  very  poor  to  me ;  but  the  subject  is  by 
no  means  inspiring,  and  no  muse  would  condescend 
to  visit  such  an  uncertain  votary  as  I  have  been  for 
the  last  week  or  so.  How  is  it  that  I  have  only  had 
one  proof  this  week  ?     You  know  we  are  five  hundred 


2Gth  Jan. 
184G. 


104  Strauss-sick.  [foleshill, 

pages  in  advance  of  the  printer,  so  you  need  not  be 
dreadfully  alarmed.  I  have  been  so  pleased  to  hear 
some  of  your  letters  read  to  me,  but,  alas !  I  can 
reflect  no  pleasure  at  this  moment,  for  I  have  a 
woful  pain  and  am  in  a  desperate  hurry. 

On  14th  February,  1846,  Mrs.  Bray  writes  to 
Miss  Sara  Hennell  that  Miss  Evans  "  says  she  is 
Strauss-sick,  —  it  makes  her  ill  dissecting  the 
beautiful  story  of  the  Crucifixion,  and  only  the 
sight  of  the  Christ  image  ^  and  picture  make  her 
endure  it.  Moreover,  as  her  work  advances 
nearer  its  public  appearance,  she  grows  dreadfully 
nervous.  Poor  thing,  I  do  pity  her  sometimes, 
with  her  pale  sickly  face  and  dreadful  headaches, 
and  anxiety  too  about  her  father.  This  illness 
of  his  has  tried  her  so  much,  for  all  the  time  she 
had  for  rest  and  fresh  air  she  had  to  read  to  him. 
Nevertheless  she  looks  very  happy  and  satisfied 
sometimes  in  her  work." 

And  about  the  end  of  February  there  is  the 
following  letter  from  Miss  Evans :  — 
Letter  to      Health  and  greeting,  my  Achates,  in  this  veritable 
Hinnln*      spring  month.     I  shall  send  you  a  parcel  on  Mon- 
1846°^^^*''    ^^y  "^^^^  ^^  ^®^'  pages  of  German  for  your  intel- 
lectual man.     The  next  parcel,  which  will  be   the 
LAST,  I  shall  send  on  the  Monday  following,  and 
when  you  have  read  to  the  end,  you  may,  if  you 
think  it  desirable,  send  the  whole  to  me.     Your  dull 
ass  does  not  mend  his  pace  for  beating ;  but  he  does 
mend   it  when   he  finds  out   that   he    is   near   his 
journey's  end,  and  makes  you  wonder  how  he  could 

1  This  was  a  oast,  20  inches  hijjh,  of  Thorwaldsen's  grand  figure 
f)f  the  risen  Christ,  which  was  placed  in  view  in  her  stndy  at  Foles- 
hill, where  she  did  all  her  work  at  that  time,  —  a  little  room  on  the 
first  floor,  with  a  charming  view  over  the  country. 


■to 


1846.]  Finishing  Translation.  105 

pretend  to  find  all  the  previous  drawing  so  hard  for 
him.  I  plead  guilty  to  having  set  off  in  a  regular 
scamper;  but  be  lenient  and  do  not  scold  me  if 
you  find  all  sorts  of  carelessnesses  in  these  last 
100  pages. 

I  have  been  guilty  of  the  most  unpardonable  piece  Letter  i 
of  carelessness,  for  which  I  am  stretched  on  a  rack  HenuS 
of  anxiety  and  mortification.  In  the  proof  that  came  Isic. '"  '^^''' 
on  Thursday,  I  unwittingly  drew  out  a  quarter  sheet 
with  the  blotting-paper,  and  did  not  discover  the 
mistake  until  Saturday  morning,  when  about  to 
correct  the  last  proof.  Surely  the  printer  would 
discover  the  absence  of  the  four  pages  and  wait  for 
them,  —  otherwise  I  would  rather  have  lost  one  of 
my  fingers  or  all  the  hair  from  my  head  than  have 
committed  such  a  faux  pas.  For  there  were  three 
very  awkward  blunders  to  be  corrected.  All  this 
vexation  makes  a  cold  and  headache  doubly  intoler- 
able, and  I  am  in  a  most  purgatorial  state  on  this 
"good  Sunday."  I  shall  send  the  proofs  with  the 
unfortunate  quarter  sheet  and  an  explanation  to- 
night to  Mr.  Chapman,  and  prithee  do  thou  en- 
quire and  see  that  the  right  thing  is  done.  The 
tears  are  streaming  from  my  smarting  eyes  —  so 
farewell. 

I  wish  we  could  get  the  book  out  in  May,  — why  Letter  to 
not  ?     I  suppose  the  binding  could  not  be  all  got  Henueiir 
through,  — the  printing  and  writing  I  should  think  ^i^^cJ-'is^a 
might  be  managed   in  time.     Shouldn't  I   like   to 
fleet  the  time  away  with  thee  as  they  did  in  the 
Golden  Age,  —  after  all  our  toils  to  lie  reclined  on 
the  hills  (spiritually),  like  gods  together,  careless  of 
mankind.      Sooth  to  speak,  idleness,  and  idleness 
with  thee,  is   just  the  most   tempting  mirage  you 
could  raise  before  my  mind's  eye,  —  I  say  mirage, 


106 


Suffering  from  Headaches,     [foleshill, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Heiinell, 
March,  1846. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
March,  1846. 


because  I  am  determined  from  henceforth  to  be- 
lieve in  no  substantiality  for  future  time,  but  to 
live  in  and  love  the  present,  —  of  which  I  have  done 
too  little.  Still  the  thought  of  being  with  you  in 
your  own  home  will  attract  me  to  that  future ;  for 
without  all  controversy  I  love  thee  and  miss  thee. 

My  soul  kisses  thee,  dear  Sara,  in  gratitude  for 
those  dewy  thoughts  of  thine  in  this  morning's  note. 
My  poor  adust  soul  wants  such  refreshment.  Con- 
tinue to  do  me  good,  —  hoping  for  nothing  again.  I 
have  had  my  sister  with  me  all  day  —  an  interrup- 
tion, alas !  I  cannot  write  more,  but  I  should  not 
be  happy  to  let  the  day  pass  without  saying  one 
word  to  thee. 

The  last  100  pages  have  certainly  been  totally 
uninteresting  to  me,  considered  as  matter  for 
translation.  Strauss  has  inevitably  anticipated  in 
the  earlier  part  of  his  work  all  the  principles  and 
many  of  the  details  of  his  criticism,  and  he  seems 
fagged  himself.  Mais  courage !  the  neck  of  the 
difficulty  is  broken,  and  there  is  really  very  little 
to  be  done  now.  If  one's  head  would  but  keep  in 
anything  like  thinking  and  writing  order !  Mine 
has  robbed  me  of  half  the  last  fortnight ;  but  I  am  a 
little  better  now,  and  am  saying  to  myself  Frisch 
zu  !  The  Crucifixion  and  the  Kesurrection  are  at  all 
events  better  than  the  bursting  asunder  of  Judas. 
I  am  afraid  I  have  not  made  this  dull  part  of 
Strauss  even  as  tolerable  as  it  might  be,  for  both 
body  and  mind  have  recoiled  from  it.  Thank  you, 
dearest,  for  all  your  love  and  patience  for  me  and 
with  me.  I  have  nothing  on  earth  to  complain  of 
but  subjective  maladies.  Father  is  pretty  well,  and 
I  have  not  a  single  excuse  for  discontent  through 
the  livelong  day. 


1846.]       Miss  Hewnell's  Help  in  Translation.        107 

As  I  believe   that   even   your   kindness  cannot  Letter  to 
overcome  your  sincerity,  I  will  cast  aside  my  fear  H^*,Leu^* 
that  your  wish   to  see  me  in   your  own  home  is  March, 
rather  a  plan   for  my  enjoyment  than  for   yours.  ^'^'^^' 
I  believe  it  would  be  an  unmixed  pleasure  to  me 
to  be  your  visitor,  and  one  that  I  would  choose 
among  a  whole  bouquet  of  agreeable  possibilities; 
so  I  will  indulge  myself,  and  accept  the  good  that 
the  heavens  and  you  offer  me.      I  am  miserably  in 
want  of  you  to  stir  up  my  soul  and  make  it  shake 
its  wings,    and    begin  some  kind    of   flight   after 
something  good    and  noble,  for  I    am    in  a  grov- 
elling, slothful   condition,   and   you  are  the  only 
friend  I  possess  who  has  an  animating  influence 
over  me.      I  have  written  to  Mr.   Hennell   anent 
the   titlepage,    and  have   voted    for   critically    ex- 
amined,  from  an  entire  conviction   of  its  prefer- 
ableness. 

See  what  it  is  to  have  a  person  en  rapport  with  Letter  to 
you,  that  knows  all  your  thoughts  without  the  Heuneu/be- 
trouble  of  communication !  I  am  especially  grate-  ApHi^i^. 
ful  to  you  for  restoring  the  "  therefore  "  to  its  right 
place.  I  was  about  to  write  to  you  to  get  you  to 
remonstrate  about  this  and  the  "  dispassionate 
calmness, "  which  I  did  not  at  all  like ;  but  I 
thought  you  had  corrected  the  prefaces,  as  the 
marks  against  the  Latin  looked  like  yours,  so  I 
determined  to  indulge  my  laissez-faire  inclina- 
tions, for  I  hate  stickling  and  debating  unless  it 
be  for  something  really  important.  I  do  really 
like  reading  our  Strauss,  —  he  is  so  hlar  und 
ideenvoll ;  but  I  do  not  know  one  person  who  is 
likely  to  read  the  book  through,  —  do  you  ?  Next 
week  we  will  be  merry  and  sad,  wise  and  nonsen- 
sical, devout  and  wicked  together. 


108  Strauss  Finished.  [foleshill, 

On  19th  April,  1846,  Mrs.  Bray  writes  to 
Miss  Hennell  tiiat  Miss  Evans  is  "  as  happy 
as  you  may  imagine  at  her  work  being  done. 
She  means  to  come  and  read  Shakspeare  through 
to  us  as  her  first  enjoyment. "  And  again,  on 
27th  April,  that  she  "  is  delighted  beyond 
measure  with  Strauss 's  elegant  Preface.  It  is 
just  what  she  likes.  And  what  a  nice  letter 
tool  The  Latin  is  quite  beyond  me,  but  the 
letter  shows  how  neatly  he  can  express  him- 
self. " 


1846.]  Summary  of  Chapter  II.  109 


SUMMABY. 

MARCH,    1841,    TO    APRIL,    1846. 

Foleshill  —  New  friends  —  Mrs.  Pears  —  Coventry  life  and  en- 
gagements —  Letters  to  Miss  Lewis  —  Brother's  marriage  —  Men- 
tal depression  —  Reading  ^Sicliol's  "  Architecture  of  the  Heavens 
and  Phenomena  of  the  Solar  iSystem"  —  Makes  acquaintance  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bray  —  Reads  Charles  Hennell's  Book,  "  An  Inquiry 
concerning  the  Origin  of  Christianity"  —  Effect  of  this  hook  — 
Gives  up  going  to  church  —  Family  difficulties  —  Letters  to  Mrs. 
Pears  —  Visit  to  Griff  —  Returns  to  Foleshill  and  resumes  going 
to  church  —  Acquaintance  with  Miss  Sara  Hennell,  and  develop- 
ment of  friendship  with  her  and  Mr.  and  ilrs.  Bray  —  Letters  to 
Miss  Sara  Hennell  describing  mental  characteristics  —  Attitude 
towards  immortality  —  Death  of  Miss  Mary  Hennell  —  Excursion 
with  the  Brays,  Mr.  Charles  Hennell,  and  Miss  Hennell,  to  Strat- 
ford and  Malvern,  and  to  Tenby  with  same  party  and  Miss 
Brabant  —  Meets  Robert  Owen  —  Studies  German  and  music 
with  Mrs.  Bray  —  Letter  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell  with  important 
declaration  of  opinion  in  regard  to  conformity  —  Mr.  Charles 
Hennell's  marriage — Stay  with  Dr.  Brabant  at  Devizes  —  Ar- 
rangement for  translation  of  Strauss 's  "  Leben  Jesu  "  —  Excursion 
with  Brays  to  the  Cumberland  lakes,  returning  by  Manchester 
and  Liverpool  —  Weary  of  Strauss  —  Letter  to  Mrs.  Bray  — 
Poetry  of  Christianity  — Admiration  of  Harriet  Martineau's  "The 
Crofton  Bo}"s"  —  Trip  to  Loudon — Despair  about  publication 
of  Strauss  —  Subscription  of  £.300  for  the  work  —  In  better  heart 
—  Minutiae  of  Strauss  translation  —  Pains  taken  with  the  Schluss 
Abhandluug  —  Opinion  of  Strauss's  work  —  The  book  in  print  — 
Trip  to  the  Highlands  —  Strauss  difficulties  —  ^fis?  Hennell 
reads  the  translation  and  makes  suggestions  —  Suffering  from 
headaches  and  "  Strauss-sick  "  —  The  last  MS.  of  the  translation. 
sent  to  Miss  HenneU — Joy  at  finishing  —  Delighted  with  Strauss's 
Preface. 


CHAPTEK  III. 

The  completion  of  the  translation  of  Strauss  is 
another  milestone  passed  in  the  life  journey  of 
George   Eliot,  and  the  comparatively  buoyant 
tone  of  the  letters  immediately  following  makes 
us  feel  that  the  galled  neck  is  out  of  the  yoke 
for  a  time.     In  May,  Mrs.  Bray  had  left  home 
on  a  visit,  and  the  next  letter  is  addressed  to 
her. 
Letter  to       Do  not  stay  longer  than   is   necessary  to  do  you 
s'und^Tpro-  good,  lest  I  should  lose  the  pleasure  of  loving  you, 
Gth  May)7*   ^^^  ^J  affcctions  are  always  the  warmest  when  my 
184C.  friends  are  within  an  attainable  distance.     I  think 

I  can  manage  to  keep  respectably  warm  towards 
you  for  three  weeks  without  seeing  you,  but  I  can- 
not promise  more.  Tell  Mr.  Bray  I  am  getting 
too  amiable  for  this  world,  and  Mr.  Donovan's 
wizard  hand  would  detect  a  slight  corrugation  of 
the  skin  on  my  organs  5  and  6  :^  they  are  so  totally 
without  exercise.  I  had  a  lecture  from  Mr.  Pears 
on  Friday,  as  well  as  a  sermon  this  morning,  so 
you  need  be  in  no  alarm  for  my  moral  health.  Do 
you  never  think  of  those  Caribs  who,  by  dint  of 
flattening  their  foreheads,  can  manage  to  see  per- 
pendicularly above  them  without  so  much  as  lift- 
ing their  heads  ?  There  are  some  good  people  who 
remind  me  of  them.  They  see  everything  so 
clearly  and  with  so  little  trouble,  but  at  the  price 
of  sad  self-mutilation. 

1  Organs  of  Combatiyeness. 


^'1846.1  Visit  to  Hennells  at  Hackney.  Ill 

On  the  26tli  May,  Miss  Evans  went  to  pay 
a  visit  to  Mrs.  and  Miss  Hennell  at  Hackney, 
and  she  writes  from  there  to  Mrs.  Bray,  who 
was  expected  to  join  them  in  London. 
I  cannot  deny  that  I  am  very  happy  without  you,  Letter  to 
but  perhaps  I  shall  be  happier  with  you,  so  do  not  endofSay, 
fail  to  try  the  experiment.  We  have  been  to  town  ^^'^' 
only  once,  and  are  saving  all  our  strength  to 
"  rake  "  with  you ;  but  we  are  as  ignorant  as  Prim- 
itive Methodists  about  any  of  the  amusements  that 
are  going.  Please  to  come  in  a  very  mischievous, 
unconscientious,  theatre-loving  humour.  Every- 
body I  see  is  very  kind  to  me,  and  therefore  I 
think  them  all  very  charming ;  and  having  every- 
thing I  want,  I  feel  very  humble  and  self-denying. 
It  is  only  rather  too  great  a  bore  to  have  to  write 
to  my  friends  when  I  am  half  asleep,  and  I  have 
not  yet  reached  that  pitch  of  amiability  that  makes 
such  magnanimity  easy.  Don't  bring  us  any  bad 
news  or  any  pains,  but  only  nods  and  becks  and 
wreathed  smiles. 

They  staid  in  London  till  the  5th  June,  and 
on  the  15th  of  that  month  the  translation  of 
Strauss  was  published.  On  the  2d  July  Mrs. 
Bray  writes  to  Miss  Hennell  that  Miss  Evans 
"  is  going  to  Dover  with  her  father  for  a  fort- 
night.  "  In  passing  through  Dover  on  our  way 
to  the  Continent  in  1880  after  our  marriage,  we 
visited  the  house  they  staid  at  in  1846,  and 
my  wife  then  told  me  that  she  had  suffered  a 
great  deal  there,  as  her  father's  health  began  to 
show  signs  of  breaking  up.  On  returning  to 
Coventry  there  is  the  following  letter  referring 
to  Wicksteed's  review  of  the  translation  of 
Strauss,  which  was  advertised  for  the  forth- 
coming number  of  the  "  Prospective  Pteview. " 


112 


Good  Spirits. 


[foleshill, 


Letter  to 
Misa  Sara 
Hennell, 


Do  yon  think  it  worth  my  while  to  buy  the  "  Pro- 
spective "  for  the  sake  of  Wicksteed's  review,  — is 
Aug!^r?)Ys4G.  there  anything  new  in  it  ?  Do  you  know  if  Mr. 
Chapman  has  any  unusual  facilities  for  obtaining 
cheap  classics  ?  Such  things  are  to  be  got  hand- 
some and  second-hand  in  Loudon,  —  if  one  knew 
but  the  way.  I  want  to  complete  Xenophon's 
works.  I  have  the  "  Anabasis,"  and  I  might  per- 
haps get  a  nice  edition  of  the  "  Memorabilia  "  and 
"  Cyropoedia  "  in  a  cheaper  way  than  by  ordering 
them  directly  from  our  own  bookseller.  I  have 
been  reading  the  "  Fawn  of  Sertorius. "  ^  I  think 
you  would  like  it,  though  the  many  would  not. 
It  is  pure,  chaste,  and  classic,  beyond  any  attempt 
at  fiction  I  ever  read.  If  it  be  Bulwer's,  he  has 
been  undergoing  a  gradual  transfiguration,  and  is 
now  ready  to  be  exalted  into  the  assembly  of  the 
saints.  The  Professor's  letter,  transmitted  through 
you,  gave  me  infinite  consolation,  more  especially 
the  apt  and  pregnant  quotation  from  Berosus. 
Precious  those  little  hidden  lakelets  of  knowledge 
in  the  high  mountains,  far  removed  from  the  vul- 
gar eye,  only  visited  by  the  soaring  birds  of  love. 
On  25th  September,  1846,  Mrs.  Bray  writes 
to  Miss  Hennell  that  Miss  Evans  "  looks  very 
brilliant  just  now.  We  fancy  she  must  be  writ- 
ing her  novel ;  "  and  then  come  the  following 
letters,  written  in  October  and  November :  — 
All  the  world  is  bathed  in  glory  and  beauty  to  me 
now,  and  thou  sharest  in  the  radiance.  Tell  me 
whether  I  live  for  you  as  you  do  for  me,  and  tell 
me  how  gods  and  men  are  treating  you.     You  must 

1  Afterwards  acknowledged  by  the  author,  Kobert  Lander 
(1)rother  of  Walter  Savage  Landor),  who  also  wrote  the  "  Foun- 
tain of  Arethusa,"  &c. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
Oct.  1846. 


1846.]        WicksteecVs  Review  in"  Prospective."        113 

send  me  a  scrap  every  month,  - — only  a  scrap  with  Letter  to 

,  i'-i-j.i  i.  c  J.  Miss  Sara 

a  dozen  words  m  it,  just  to  prevent  me  trom  starv-  Henneii, 
ing  on  faith  alone,  — of  which  you  know  I  have  o*='- ^s^- 
the  minimum  of  endowment.     I  am  sinning  against 
my  Daddy  by  yielding  to  the  strong  impulse  I  felt 
to  write  to  you,  for  he  looks  at  me  as  if  he  wanted 
me  to  read  to  him. 

I  do  not  know  whether  I  can  get  up  any  steam  Letter  to 
again  on  the  subject  of  Quinet,  but  I  will  try,  —  Heileii, 
when  Cara  comes  back,  however,  for  she  has  run  mL 
away  with  "  Christianity  "  into  Devonshire,  and  I 
must  have  the  book  as  a  springing-board.      When 
does  the  "  Prospective  "  come  out  ? 

The  review  of  Strauss  contains  some  very  just  Letter  to 
remarks,  —  though,  on  the  whole,  I  think  it  shal-  Heuneii,  ist 

1  -,      •  0     ■  rril  „        •  •  J.    Nov.  1846. 

low,  and  m  many  cases  unfair.  Ihe  praise  it 
gives  to  the  translation  is  just  what  I  should  have 
wished,  —  indeed  I  cannot  imagine  anything  more 
gratifying  in  the  way  of  laudation.  Is  it  not 
droll  that  Wicksteed  should  have  chosen  one  of 
my  interpolations,  or  rather  paraphrases,  to  dilate 
on  ?  The  expression  "  granite, "  applied  to  the 
sayings  of  Jesus,  is  nowhere  used  by  Strauss,  but 
is  an  impudent  addition  of  mine  to  eke  out  his 
metaphor.  Did  you  notice  the  review  of  Foster's 
Life  ?  ^  I  am  reading  the  life,  and  thinking  all 
the  time  how  you  would  like  it.  It  is  deeply 
interesting  to  study  the  life  of  a  genius  under  cir- 
cumstances amid  which  genius  is  so  seldom  to  be 
found.  Some  of  the  thoughts  in  his  journal  are 
perfect  gems. 

The  words  of  the  Reviewer  of  the  Strauss 
translation  in  the  "  Prospective  "  are  worth  pre- 
serving :  "  A  faithful,  elegant,  and  scholarlike 

1  John  Foster,  Baptist  minister,  born  1770,  died  1843. 
VOL.  I  —  8 


to 


114  WicksteccVs  Review.  [foleshill, 

translation.  Whoever  reads  these  volumes 
without  any  reference  to  the  German  must  be 
pleased  witli  the  easy,  perspicuous,  idiomatic, 
and  harmonious  force  of  the  English  style. 
But  he  will  be  still  more  satisfied  when,  on 
turning  to  the  original,  he  finds  that  the  ren- 
dering is  word  for  word,  thought  for  thought, 
and  sentence  for  sentence.  In  preparing  so 
beautiful  a  rendering  as  the  present,  the  diffi- 
culties can  have  been  neither  few  nor  small  in 
the  way  of  preserving,  in  various  parts  of  the 
work,  the  exactness  of  the  translation,  com- 
bined with  that  uniform  harmony  and  clearness 
of  style  which  imparts  to  the  volumes  before  us 
the  air  and  spirit  of  an  original.  Though  the 
translator  never  obtrudes  himself  upon  the 
reader  with  any  notes  or  comments  of  his  own, 
yet  he  is  evidently  a  man  who  has  a  familiar 
knowledge  of  the  whole  subject;  and  if  the 
work  be  the  joint  production  of  several  hands, 
moving  in  concert,  the  passages  of  a  specially 
scholastic  character,  at  least,  have  received 
their  version  from  a  discerning  and  well-in- 
formed theologian.  Indeed  Strauss  may  well 
say,  as  he  does  in  the  notice  which  he  writes 
for  the  English  edition,  that,  as  far  as  he  has 
examined  it,  the  translation  is  'et  accurata  et 
perspicua. '  " 
Letter  to  Many  things,  both  outward  and  inward,  have  con- 
Henneirend  cuvrcd  to  make  this  November  far  happier  than 
■  the  last.      One's  thoughts 

"  Are  widened  with  the  process  of  the  suns ; " 

and  if  one  is  rather  doubtful  whether  one  is  really 
wiser  or  better,  it  is  some  comfort  to  know  that 
the  desire  to  be  so  is  more  pure  and  dominant.     I 


1847.]  "Heliados"  115 

have  been  thinking  of  that  most  beautiful  passage  Letter  to 
in  Luke's  Gospel,  — the  appearance  of  Jesus  to  the  Heuneureud 
disciples  at  Emmaus.  How  universal  in  its  sig- °^  ^°''' ^'*^' 
nificance !  The  soul  that  has  hopelessly  followed 
its  Jesus,  —  its  impersonation  of  the  highest  and 
best,  —  all  in  despondency ;  its  thoughts  all  re- 
futed, its  dreams  all  dissipated!  Then  comes 
another  Jesus,  —  another,  but  the  same,  —  the 
same  highest  and  best,  only  chastened,  —  crucified 
instead  of  triumphant,  —  and  the  soul  learns  that 
this  is  the  true  way  to  conquest  and  glory.  And 
then  there  is  the  burning  of  the  heart,  which 
assures  that  "  this  was  the  Lord !  "  —  that  this  is 
the  inspiration  from  above,  —  the  true  comforter 
that  leads  unto  truth.  But  I  am  not  become  a 
Methodist,  dear  Sara ;  on  the  contrary,  if  I  am 
pious  one  day,  you  may  be  sure  I  was  very  wicked 
the  day  before,  and  shall  be  so  again  the  next. 

I  have  been   at  Griff  for  the  last   week,    or  I  Letter  to 

ii>  Til  j_   Miss  Sara 

should  have  written  before,  i  thank  you  most  Henneii, 
heartily  for  sending  me  "  Heliados, "  —  first,  because  ims. 
I  admire  it  greatly  in  itself,  and  secondly,  because 
it  is  a  pretty  proof  that  I  am  not  dissociated  from 
your  most  hallowed  thoughts.  As  yet  I  have  read 
it  only  once,  but  I  promise  myself  to  read  it  again 
and  again.  I  shall  not  show  it  to  any  one,  for  I 
hate  "  friendly  criticism,"  as  much  for  you  as  for 
myself ;  but  you  have  a  better  spirit  than  I,  and 
when  you  come  I  will  render  "  Heliados  "  up  to  you, 
that  others  may  have  the  pleasure  of  reading  it. 

Lying  in  bed  this  morning  grievously  tormented,  Letter  to 
your  "  Heliados  "  visited  me  and  revealed  itself  to  Henneu? 
me  more  completely  than  it  had  ever  done  before.  JsIt.^*''* 
How  true  that  "  it  is  only  when  all  portions  of  an 
individual  nature,  or  all  members  of  society,  move 


116 


Child's  View  of  God.  [foleshill, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Heuuell, 
IStli  Feb. 
1847. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hpnnell, 
Snth  April, 
1847. 


forward  harmoniously  together,  that  religious  pro- 
gress is  calm  and  beneficial!  "  I  imagine  the  sor- 
rowful amaze  of  a  child  who  had  been  dwelling 
with  delight  on  the  idea  that  the  stars  were  the 
pavement  of  heaven's  court,  and  that  there  above 
them  sat  the  kind  but  holy  God,  looking  like  a 
venerable  Father  who  would  smile  on  his  good 
little  ones,  — when  it  was  cruelly  told,  before  its 
mind  had  substance  enough  to  bear  such  tension, 
that  the  sky  was  not  real,  that  the  stars  were 
worlds,  and  that  even  the  sun  could  not  be  God's 
dwelling,  because  there  were  many,  many  suns. 
These  ideas  would  introduce  atheism  into  the 
child's  mind,  instead  of  assisting  it  to  form  a 
nobler  conception  of  God  (of  course  I  am  suppos- 
ing the  bare  information  given,  and  left  to  the 
child  to  work  upon) ;  whereas  the  idea  it  pre- 
viously had  of  God  was  perfectly  adapted  to  its 
intellectual  condition,  and  formed  to  the  child  as 
perfect  an  embodiment  of  the  all-good,  all-wise, 
and  all-powerful  as  the  most  enlightened  philoso- 
pher ever  formed  to  himself. 

On    21st   April    Miss  Evans   went   to    Lon- 
don with  the  Brays,  and,  among  other  things, 
heard  "  Elijah  "  at  Exeter  Hall.      On  returning 
to  Coventry  she  writes:  — 
I  did  so  long  to  see  you  after  hearing  "  Elijah," 
just  to  exchange  an  exclamation  of  delight.      Last 
night  I  had  a  perfect  treat,  too,  in  "  I  Puritani. " 
Castellar  was  admirable  as  Elvira,  and  Gardoni  as 
a  seraph.     N.  B.  —  I  liked  the  Babel  less,  — an- 
other sign  of  ane. 

Mention  has  already  been  made  of  Miss  Mary 
Sibree  (now  Mrs.  John  Cash  of  Coventry) ;  and 
as  the  following  genial  letter  is  addressed  to 


1S47.]  ^  The  Sihree  Family.  117 

her,  it  gives  an  opportunity  for  mentioning 
here  that  Miss  Evans  had  a  high  regard  for  all 
the  members  of  the  Sibree  family.  At  the  end 
of  this  year  (1847)  and  the  beginning  of  1848, 
there  will  be  found  an  interesting  correspon- 
dence with  Miss  Sibree 's  brother,  Mr.  John 
Sibree,  who,  in  1849,  published  a  translation 
of  Hegel's  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of 
History,  and  in  1880,  a  volume  of  poems  en- 
titled "  Fancy  and  other  Ehymes. "  The  sub- 
joined extract  from  a  communication  from  Mrs. 
Cash  will  show  upon  what  terms  Miss  Evans 
was  with  the  family :  — 

"  It  was  in  the  early  part  of  the  year  1841 
that  Miss  Franklin  came  to  see  my  mother  at 
our  house  on  the  Foleshill  Eoad,  —  about  a 
mile  and  a  half  from  Coventry,  —  to  tell  her, 
as  a  piece  of  most  interesting  news,  that  an 
old  pupil,  of  whom  she  herself  and  her  sister 
Eebecca  had  always  been  very  proud,  was  com- 
ing at  the  Lady-Day  quarter  to  live  at  a  house 
on  the  same  road,  —  within  five  minutes'  walk 
of  ours.  This  was  Miss  Evans,  then  21  years 
of  age.  Miss  Franklin  dwelt  with  much  pride 
on  Miss  Evans's  mental  power,  on  her  skill  in 
music,  &c.  ;  but  the  great  recommendation  to 
my  mother's  interest  was  the  zeal  for  others 
which  had  marked  her  earnest  piety  at  school, 
where  she  had  induced  the  girls  to  come  to- 
gether for  prayer,  and  which  had  led  her  to 
visit  the  poor  most  diligently  in  the  cottages 
round  her  own  home.  Many  years  after,  an 
old  nurse  of  mine  told  me  that  these  poor  peo- 
ple had  said  after  her  removal,  'We  shall  never 
have  another  Mary  Ann  Evans. ' 


118  Mrs.  Cash's  Recollections       [foleshill, 

"  My  mother  was  asked  to  second  and  help 
her  in  work  of  this  kind.  'She  will  be  sure  to 
get  something  up  very  soon, '  was  the  last 
remark  I  can  recall ;  and  on  her  first  visit  to 
us  I  well  remember  she  told  us  of  a  club  for 
clothing,  set  going  by  herself  and  her  neigh- 
bour Mrs.  Pears,  in  a  district  to  which  she 
said  'the  euphonious  name  of  the  Pudding-Pits 
had  been  given. '  It  was  not  until  the  winter 
of  1841,  or  early  in  1842,  that  my  mother  first 
received  (not  from  Miss  Evans's  own  lips,  but 
through  a  mutual  friend)  the  information  that 
a  total  change  had  taken  place  in  this  gifted 
woman's  mind  with  respect  to  the  evangelical 
religion,  which  she  had  evidently  believed  in 
up  to  the  time  of  her  coming  to  Coventry,  and 
for  which,  she  once  told  me,  she  had  at  one 
time  sacrificed  the  cultivation  of  her  intellect, 
and  a  proper  regard  to  personal  appearance. 
'I  used,'  she  said,  'to  go  about  like  an  owl,  to 
the  great  disgust  of  my  brother;  and  I  would 
have  denied  him  what  I  now  see  to  have  been 
quite  lawful  amusements. '  My  mother's  grief 
on  hearing  of  this  change  in  one  whom  she  had 
begun  to  love,  was  very  great ;  but  she  thought 
argument  and  expostulation  might  do  much, 
and  I  well  remember  a  long  evening  devoted  to 
it,  but  no  more  of  the  subject-matter  than  her 
indignant  refusal  to  blame  the  Jews  for  not 
seeing  in  a  merely  spiritual  Deliverer  a  fulfil- 
ment of  promises  of  a  temporal  one ;  and  a  still 
more  emphatic  protest  against  my  father's  as- 
sertion that  we  had  no  claim  on  God.  To  Miss 
Evans's  ahectionate  and  pathetic  speech  to  my 
mother,   'Now,  Mrs.  Sibree,  you  won't  care  to 


1847.]  of  Miss  Evans  at  Coventry.  119 

have  anything  more  to  do  with  me,'  my  mother 
rejoined,  'On  the  contrary,  I  shall  feel  more 
interested  in  you  than  ever. '  But  it  was  very 
evident  at  this  time  that  she  stood  in  no  need 
of  sympathising  friends :  that  the  desire  for 
conaenial  societv,  as  well  as  for  books  and 
larger  opportunities  for  culture,  which  had  led 
her  most  eagerly  to  seek  a  removal  from  Griff 
to  a  home  near  Coventry,  had  been  met  beyond 
her  highest  expectations.  In  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Bray,  and  in  the  Hennell  family,  she  had 
found  friends  who  called  forth  her  interest  and 
stimulated  her  powers  in  no  common  degree. 
This  was  traceable  even  in  externals,  —  in  the 
changed  tone  of  voice  and  manner,  —  from  for- 
mality to  a  geniality  which  opened  my  heart  to 
her,  and  made  the  next  five  years  the  most  im- 
portant epoch  in  my  life.  She  gave  me  (as  yet 
in  my  teens)  weekly  lessons  in  German,  speak- 
ing freely  on  all  subjects,  but  with  no  attempt 
to  directly  unsettle  my  evangelical  beliefs,  con- 
fining herself  in  these  matters  to  a  steady  pro- 
test against  the  claim  of  the  Evangelicals  to 
an  exclusive  possession  of  higher  motives  to 
morality,  —  or  even  to  religion.  Speaking 
to  my  mother  of  her  dearest  friend,  Mrs. 
Bray,  she  said,  'She  is  the  most  religious  per- 
son I  know. '  Of  Mr.  Charles  Hennell,  in 
whose  writings  she  had  great  interest,  she  said, 
'He  is  a  perfect  model  of  manly  excellence. ' 

"  On  one  occasion  at  Mr.  Bray's  house  at 
Rosehill,  roused  by  a  remark  of  his  on  the 
beneficial  influence  exercised  by  evangelical 
beliefs  on  the  moral  feelings,  she  said  energeti- 
cally, '  I  say  it  now,  and  I  say  it  once  for  all, 


120  Mrs.  Cash's  Reminiscences,     [foleshill, 

that  I  am  influenced  in  my  own  conduct  at  the 
present  time  by  far  higher  considerations,  and 
by  a  nobler  idea  of  duty,  than  I  ever  was  while 
I  held  the  evangelical  beliefs. '  Wlien  at 
length,  after  my  brother's  year's  residence  at 
the  Halle  University  (in  1842-43),.  my  own 
mind  having  been  much  exercised  in  the  mat- 
ter of  religion,  I  felt  the  moral  difficulties  press 
heavily  on  my  conscience,  and  my  whole  heart 
was  necessarily  poured  out  to  my  '  Guide,  Phil- 
osopher, and  Friend, '  the  steady  turning  of  my 
attention  from  theoretical  questions  to  a  con- 
fession of  my  own  want  of  thoroughness  in 
arithmetic,  which  I  pretended  to  teach ;  and 
the  request  that  I  would  specially  give  atten- 
tion to  this  study  and  get  my  conscience  clear 
about  it,  and  that  I  would  not  come  to  her 
again  until  my  views  of  religion  were  also 
clear,  is  too  characteristic  of  Miss  Evans,  as  I 
knew  her  during  those  years,  and  too  much  in 
harmony  with  the  moral  teaching  of  George 
Eliot,  to  be  omitted  in  reminiscences  by  one  to 
whom  that  wholesome  advice  proved  a  turning- 
point  in  life.  Two  things  more  I  cannot  omit 
to  mention  :  one,  the  heightened  sense  given  to 
me  by  her  of  the  duty  of  making  conversation 
profitable,  and  in  general  of  using  time  for 
serious  purposes,  —  of  the  positive  immorality 
of  frittering  it  away  in  ill-natured  or  in  poor, 
profitless  talk  ;  another,  the  debt  (so  frequently 
acknowledged  by  Miss  Evans  to  me)  which  she 
owed,  during  the  years  of  her  life  with  her 
father,  to  the  intercourse  she  enjoyed  with  her 
friends  at  Rosehill.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bray  and 
Miss    Hennell,    with    their   friends,    were   her 


18i7.j  Tlianks  for  Present  of  Purse.  121 

world,  —  and  on  my  saying  to  her  once,  as  we 
closed  the  garden  door  together,  that  we  seemed 
to  be  entering  a  Paradise,  she  said,  'I  do  indeed 
feel  that  I  shut  the  world  out  when  I  shut  that 
door. '     It  is  consoling  to  me  now  to  feel  that 
in  her  terrible  suffering  through  her  father's 
illness  and  death,  which  were  most  trying  to 
witness,  she  had  such  alleviations. " 
It  is  worth  while  to  forget  a  friend  for  a  week  or  Letter  to 
ten  days,  just  for  the  sake  of  the  agreeable  kind  of  siw,  wth 
startle  it  gives  one  to  be  reminded   that  one  has  ^*y'^^^- 
such    a   treasure    in   reserve,  —  the    same    sort   of 
pleasure,    I  suppose,   that  a  poor  body  feels  who 
happens  to  lay  his  hand  on  an  undreamt  of  six- 
pence which  had  sunk  to  a  corner  of  his  pocket. 
When  Mr.  Sibree  brought  me  your  parcel,  I  had 
been  to  London  for  a  week ;  and  having  been  full 
of  Mendelssohn  oratorios  and  Italian  operas,  I  had 
just  this  kind  of  delightful  surprise  when  I  saw 
your  note  and  the  beautiful  purse.      Not  that  I 
mean  to  compare  you  to  a  sixpence,  —  you  are  a 
brisht  golden  sovereign  to  me,  with  edges  all  un- 
rubbed,   fit  to  remind  a  poor,   tarnished,   bruised 
piece  like  me,  that  there  are  ever  fresh  and  more 
perfect  coinages  of  human  nature  forthcoming.     I 
am  very  proud  of  my  purse,  —  first,  because  I  have 
long  had  to  be  ashamed  of  drawing  my  old  one  out 
of  my  pocket ;  and  secondly,  because  it  is  a  sort  of 
symbol   of  your  love  for  me,  —  and  who  is   not 
proud  to  be  loved  ?     For  there  is  a  beautiful  kind 
of  pride  at  which  no  one  need  frown,  — I  may  call 
it  a  sort  of  impersonal  pride,  —  a  thrill  of  exulta- 
tion at  all  that  is  good  and  lovely  and  joyous  as  a 
possession  of  our  human  nature. 

I  am  glad  to  think  of  all  your  pleasure  among 


122  Old  Peoples  Judgments.       [foleshill, 

Letter  to  friencls  new  and  old.  Mrs.  D.  's  mother  is,  I  dare- 
silTree,  iwh  83}%  a  Valuable  person;  but  do  not,  I  beseech  thee, 
Way,  184/.  ^^^  ^^  ^^j  pcople  as  oracles  on  matters  which  date 
any  later  than  their  thirty-fifth  year.  Only  trust 
them,  if  they  are  good,  in  those  practical  rules 
which  are  the  common  property  of  long  experience. 
If  they  are  governed  by  one  special  idea  which 
circumstances  or  their  own  mental  bias  have  caused 
them  to  grasp  with  peculiar  firmness,  and  to  work 
up  into  original  forms,  make  yourself  master  of 
their  thoughts  and  convictions,  the  residuum  of 
all  that  long  travail  which  poor  mortals  have  to 
encounter  in  their  threescore  years  and  ten,  but  do 
not  trust  their  application  of  their  gathered  wis- 
dom;  for  however  just  old  people  may  be  in  their 
principles  of  judgment,  they  are  often  wrong  in 
their  application  of  them  from  an  imperfect  or  un- 
just conception  of  the  matter  to  be  judged.  Love 
and  cherish  and  venerate  the  old ;  but  never  ima- 
gine that  a  worn-out,  dried-up  organisation  can  be 
so  rich  in  inspiration  as  one  which  is  full  fraught 
with  life  and  energy.  I  am  not  talking  like  one 
who  is  superlatively  jealous  for  the  rights  of  the 
old ;  yet  such  I  am,  I  assure  thee.  I  heard  Men- 
delssohn's new  oratorio  "  Elijah  "  when  I  was  in 
London.  It  has  been  performed  four  times  in 
Exeter  Hall  to  as  large  an  audience  as  the  build- 
ing would  hold,  —  Mendelssohn  himself  the  con- 
ductor. It  is  a  glorious  production,  and  altogether 
I  look  upon  it  as  a  kind  of  sacramental  purifica- 
tion of  Exeter  Hall,  and  a  proclamation  of  indul- 
gence for  all  that  is  to  be  perpetrated  there  during 
this  month  of  May.  This  is  a  piece  of  impiety 
which  you  may  expect  from  a  lady  who  has  been 
guanoing  her  mind  with  French  novels.     This  is 


1847.]      Re-reading  of  HennelVs  "  Inquiry."         123 

the  impertinent  expression  of  D 'Israeli,  who,  writ-  Letter  to 
ing  himself  much  more  detestable  stuff  than  ever  sibre^ioth 
came  from  a  French  pen,  can  do  nothing  better  to  '^^y^'^^'^- 
bamboozle  the  unfortunates  who  are  seduced  into 
reading  his  "  Tancred  "  than  speak  superciliously 
of  all  other  men  and  things,  — an  expedient  much 
more  successful  in  some  quarters  than  one  would 
expect.     But  au  fond,  dear  Mary,  I  have  no  im- 
piety in  my  mind  at  this  moment,  and  my  soul 
heartily  responds  to  your  rejoicing  that  society  is 
attaining  a  more   perfect  idea  and   exhibition  of 
Paul's  exhortation,  —  "Let  the  same  mind  be  in 
you  which  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus. "     I  believe 
the  Amen  to  this  will  be  uttered  more  and  more 
fervently,  "  Among  all  posterities  for  ever  more.  " 

Ask  me  not  why  I  have  never  written  all  this  Letter  to 
weary  time.     I  can  only  answer,  "  All  things  are  He^eii? 
full  of  labour,  —  man  cannot  utter  it, "  —  et  seq.  H^f"^^' 
See  the  1st  chapter  of   Ecclesiastes  for  my  expe- 
rience. 

I  have  read  the  "  Inquiry  "  again  with  more  than  Letter  to 
interest,  —  with  delight  and  high  admiration.     My  ul'Lln,^ 
present  impression  from  it  far  surpasses  the  one  I  }847.^®p*' 
had    retained    from    my    two   readings    about   five 
years  ago.      With  the  exception  of  a  few  expres- 
sions which  seem  too  little  discriminating  in  the 
introductory  sketch,  there  is  nothing  in  its  whole 
tone  from  beginning  to  end  that  jars  on  my  moral 
sense ;  and  apart  from  any  opinion  of  the  book  as 
an  explanation  of  the  existence  of  Christianity  and 
the  Christian  documents,  I  am  sure  that  no  one, 
fit  to  read  it  at  all,  could  read  it  without  being 
intellectually  and  morally  stronger,  —  the  reason- 
ing is  so  close,  the  induction  so  clever,  the  style 
so  clear,  vigorous,  and  pointed,  and   the   animus 


124  Hennell's  "  Inquiry."         [foleshill, 

Letter  to  SO  Candid  and  even  generous.  Mr.  Hennell  ought 
Henneu,  to  bc  One  of  the  happiest  of  men  that  he  has  done 
1847.  ^^ '  such  a  life's  work.  I  am  sure  if  I  had  written 
such  a  book,  I  should  be  invulnerable  to  all  the 
arrows  of  all  spiteful  gods  and  goddesses.  I 
should  say,  "  None  of  these  things  move  me, 
neither  count  I  my  life  dear  unto  myself, "  seeing 
that  I  have  delivered  such  a  message  of  God  to 
men.  The  book  is  full  of  wit  to  me.  It  gives  me 
that  exquisite  kind  of  laughter  which  comes  from 
the  gratification  of  the  reasoning  faculties.  Tor 
instance :  "  If  some  of  those  who  were  actually  at 
the  mountain  doubted  whether  they  saw  Jesus  or 
not,  we  may  reasonably  doubt  whether  he  was  to 
be  seen  at  all  there  :  especially  as  the  words  attri- 
buted to  him  do  not  seem  at  all  likely  to  have 
been  said,  from  the  disciples  paying  no  attention 
to  them. "  "  The  disciples  considered  her  [Mary 
Magdalene's]  words  idle  tales,  and  believed  them 
not. "  We  have  thus  their  example  for  consider- 
ing her  testimony  alone  as  insufficient,  and  for 
seeking  further  evidence.  To  say  "  Jewish  philoso- 
pher "  seems  almost  like  saying  a  round  square : 
yet  those  two  words  appear  to  me  the  truest 
description  of  Jesus.  I  think  the  "  Inquiry  "  fur- 
nishes the  utmost  that  can  be  done  towards  obtain- 
ing a  real  view  of  the  life  and  character  of  Jesus, 
by  rejecting  as  little  as  possible  from  the  Gospels. 
I  confess  that  I  should  call  many  things  "  shining 
ether,"  to  which  Mr.  Hennell  allows  the  solid 
angularity  of  facts  ;  but  I  think  he  has  thoroughly 
worked  out  the  problem,  —  subtract  from  the  New 
Testament  the  miraculous  and  highly  improbable, 
and  what  will  be  the  remainder  ? 

At  the  end  of   September   Miss   Evans  and 


1847.]  Trip  to  Isle  of  Wight.  125 

her  father  went  for  a  little  trip  to  the  Isle  of 
Wight,  and  on  their  return  there  is  the  follow- 
ing letter :  — 
I  heartily  wish  you  had  been  with  me  to  see  all  Letter  to 
the  beauties  which  have  gladdened  my  soul,  and  Heuneu? 
made  me  feel  that  this  earth  is  as  good  a  heaven  Islv.*^'"'' 
as  I  ought  to  dream  of.     I  have  a  much  greater 
respect  for  the  Isle  of  Wight,  now  I  have  seen  it, 
than  when  I  knew  it  only  by  report,  —  a  compli- 
ment which  one  can  seldom  very  sincerely  pay  to 
things  and  people  that  one  has  heard  puffed  and 
bepraised.     I  do  long  for  you  to  see   Alum  Bay. 
Fancy  a  very  high  precipice,  the  strata  upheaved 
perx^endicularly    in    rainbow-like    streaks    of    the 
brightest  maize,    violet,    pink,   blue,    red,    brown, 
and  brilliant  white,  worn  by  the  weather  into  fan- 
tastic fretwork,  the  deep  blue  sky  above,  and  the 
glorious  sea  below.      It  seems  an  enchanted  land, 
where  the  earth  is  of  more  delicate,  refined  mate- 
rials than  this  dingy  planet  of  ours  is  wrought  out 
of.     You  might  fancy  the   strata   formed    of   the 
compressed  pollen  of  flowers,  or  powder  from  bright 
insects.      You  can  think  of  nothing  but  Calypsos, 
or  Prosperos  and  Ariels,  and  suchlike  beings. 

I  find  one  very  great  spiritual  good  attendant  on 
a  quiet  meditative  journey  among  fresh  scenes.  I 
seem  to  have  removed  to  a  distance  from  myself 
when  I  am  away  from  the  petty  circumstances  that 
make  up  my  ordinary  environment.  I  can  take 
myself  up  by  the  ears  and  inspect  myself  like 
any  other  queer  monster  on  a  small  scale.  I  have 
had  many  thoughts,  especially  on  a  subject  that  I 
should  like  to  work  out,  —  "  The  superiority  of  the 
consolations  of  philosophy  to  those  of  (so-called) 
religion.  "     Do  you  stare  ? 


126 


Blanco  White. 


[foleshilx, 


Letter  to 
M:so  Sara 
Heuuell, 
13th  Oct. 

1847. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Henuell, 
27th  Nov. 
1847. 


Thank  you  for  putting  me  on  reading  Sir  Charles 
Grandison.  I  have  read  five  volumes,  and  am  only- 
vexed  that  I  have  not  the  two  last  on  my  tahle  at 
this  moment,  that  I  might  have  them  for  my  con- 
vives. I  had  no  idea  that  liichardson  was  worth 
so  much.  I  have  had  more  pleasure  from  him 
than  from  all  the  Swedish  novels  together.  The 
morality  is  perfect,  —  there  is  nothing  for  the  new 
lights  to  correct. 

How  do  you  like  "Ldlia, "  of  which  you  have 
never  spoken  one  word  ?  I  am  provoked  with  you 
for  being  in  the  least  pleased  with  "  Tancred  ;  "  but 
if  you  have  found  out  any  lofty  meaning  in  it,  or 
any  true  picturing  of  life,  tell  it  me,  and  I  will 
recant.  I  have  found  tw^o  new  readers  of  Strauss. 
One  a  lady  at  Leamington,  who  is  also  reading  the 
"  Inquiry, "  but  likes  Strauss  better  !  The  other  is  a 
gentleman  here  in  Coventry ;  he  says  "  it  is  most 
clever  and  ingenious,  and  that  no  one  whose  faith 
rests  only  on  the  common  foundation  can  withstand 
it.  "  I  think  he  may  safely  say  that  his  faith  rests 
on  an  wwcommon  foundation.  The  book  will  cer- 
tainly give  him  a  lift  in  the  right  direction  from 
its  critical,  logical  character, — just  the  opposite 
of  his  own.  I  was  interested  the  other  day  in 
talking  to  a  young  lady  who  lives  in  a  nest  of 
clergymen,  her  brothers,  but  not  of  the  evangelical 
school.  She  had  been  reading  Blanco  White's 
life,  and  seems  to  have  had  her  spirit  stirred 
within  her,  as  every  one's  must  be  who  reads  the 
book  with  any  power  of  appreciation.  She  is 
unable  to  account  to  herself  for  the  results  at  which 
Blanco  White  arrived  wdth  his  earnestness  and 
love  of  truth  ;  and  she  asked  me  if  I  had  come 
to  the  same  conclusions. 


1848.]  "Lettres  cVun  Voyageur"  127 

I  think  "  Live  aud  teach  "  should  be  a  proverb  Letter  to 
as  well  as  "  Live  and  learn.  "  We  must  teach  either  Hemiei" 
for  good  or  evil ;  and  if  we  use  our  inward  light  as  i^7.'^°''' 
the  Quaker  tells  us,  always  taking  care  to  feed  and 
trim  it  well,  our  teaching  must  in  the  end  be  for 
good.  We  are  growing  old  together,  —  are  we  not  ? 
I  am  growing  happier  too.  I  am  amusing  myself 
with  thinking  of  the  prophecy  of  Daniel  as  a  sort 
of  allegory.  All  those  monstrous,  "  rombustical  " 
beasts  with  their  horns,  —  the  horn  with  eyes  and 
a  mouth  speaking  proud  things,  and  the  little  horn 
that  waxed  rebellious  and  stamped  on  the  stars, 
seem  like  my  passions  and  vain  fancies,  which  are 
to  be  knocked  down  one  after  the  other,  —  until 
all  is  subdued  into  a  universal  kingdom  over 
which  the  Ancient  of  Days  presides,  —  the  spirit 
of  love,  —  the  Catholicism  of  the  Universe,  if  you 
can  attach  any  meaning  to  such  a  phrase.  It  has 
a  meaning  for  my  sage  noddle. 

I    am    reading    George    Sand's   "Lettres    d'un  Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 

Voyageur  "  with  great  delight,  and  hoping  that  Heuneii, 
they  will  some  time  do  you  as  much  good  as  they 
do  me.  In  the  meantime,  I  think  the  short  letter 
about  "  L^lia  "  will  interest  you.  It  has  a  very 
deep  meaning  to  my  apprehension.  You  can  send 
back  the  pages  when  you  have  duly  digested  them. 
I  once  said  of  you  that  yours  was  a  sort  of  alkali 
nature,  which  would  detect  the  slightest  acid  of 
falsehood.  You  began  to  phiz-zz  directly  it  ap- 
proached you.  I  want  you  as  a  test.  I  now  begin 
to  see  the  necessity  of  the  arrangement  (a  bad  word) 
that  love  should  determine  people's  fate  while 
they  are  young.  It  is  so  impossible  to  admire  — • 
"  s' enthousiasmer  "  of  —  an  individual  as  one  gets 
older. 


Jan.  1S48. 


of  1848. 


128  Letter  to  Mr.  Sibree.  [foleshill, 

Here  follows  the  interesting  correspondence, 
referred  to  before,  with  Mr.  John  Sibree. 
Letter  to  Begin  jour  letter  by  abusing  me  according  to  my 
bejnnfng  cxample.  There  is  nothing  like  a  little  gun- 
powder for  a  damp  chimney ;  and  an  explosion  of 
that  sort  will  set  the  fire  of  your  ideas  burning  to 
admiration.  I  hate  bashfulness  and  modesties,  as 
Sir  Hugh  Evans  would  say ;  and  I  warn  you  that  I 
shall  make  no  apologies,  though  from  my  habit  of 
writing  only  to  people  who,  rather  than  have  noth- 
ing from  me,  will  tolerate  nothings,  I  shall  be 
very  apt  to  forget  that  you  are  not  one  of  those 
amiably  silly  individuals.  I  must  write  to  you 
more  meo,  without  taking  pains  or  labouring  to  be 
s'pirituelle  when  heaven  never  meant  me  to  be  so ; 
and  it  is  your  own  fault  if  you  bear  with  my 
letters  a  moment  after  they  become  an  infliction. 
I  am  glad  you  detest  Mrs.  Hannah  More's  letters. 
I  like  neither  her  letters,  nor  her  books,  nor  her 
character.  She  was  that  most  disagreeable  of  all 
monsters,  a  blue  stocking,  —  a  monster  that  can 
only  exist  in  a  miserably  false  state  of  society,  in 
which  a  woman  with  but  a  smattering  of  learning 
or  philosophy  is  classed  along  with  singing  mice 
and  card-playing  pigs.  It  is  some  time  since  I 
read  "  Tancred, "  so  that  I  have  no  very  vivid  recol- 
lection of  its  details  ;  but  I  thought  it  very  "  thin," 
and  inferior  in  the  working  up  to  "  Coningsby,  "  and 
"  Sybil.  "  Young  Englandism  is  almost  as  remote 
from  my  sympathies  as  Jacobitism,  as  far  as  its 
force  is  concerned,  though  I  love  and  respect  it  as 
an  effort  on  behalf  of  the  people.  D 'Israeli  is 
unquestionably  an  able  man,  and  I  always  enjoy 
his  tirades  against  liberal  principles  as  opposed  to 
popular  principles,  —  the  name  by  which  he  dis- 


1848.]  Bace  Characteristics.  129 

tinguishes  his  own.     As  to  his  theory  of  races,  it  Letter  to 
has  not  a  leg  to  stand  on,  and  can  only  be  buoyed  beghmi^g 
up  by  such  windy  eloquence  as,  —  You  chubby-  ° 
faced,    squabby-nosed   Europeans    owe   your   com- 
merce, your  arts,   your  religion,   to  the  Hebrews, 
—  nay,  the  Hebrews  lead  your  armies :  in  proof  of 
which  he  can  tell  us  that  Massdna,  a  second-rate 
general  of  Napoleon's,  was  a  Jew,  whose  real  name 
was  Manasseh.      Extermination    up   to  a  certain 
point  seems  to  be  the  law  for  the  inferior  races,  — 
for  the  rest  fusion  both  for    physical    and    moral 
ends.     It  appears   to  me  that  the   law  by  which 
privileged  classes  degenerate  from  continual  inter- 
marriage, must  act  on  a  larger  scale  in  deteriorat- 
ing whole  races.      The  nations  have  been  always 
kept  apart  until  they  have  sufficiently  developed 
their  idiosyncrasies,  and  then  some  great  revolu- 
tionary force  has  been  called  into  action,  by  which 
the  genius  of  a  particular  nation  becomes  a  portion 
of   the  common  mind  of   humanity.     Looking   at 
the  matter  aesthetically,  our  idea  of  beauty  is  never 
formed  on  the  characteristics  of  a  single  race.      I 
confess  the  types  of  the  pure  races,  however  hand- 
some, always  impress  me  disagreeably ;  there  is  an 
undefined  feeling  that  I  am  looking  not  at  man, 
but  at  a  specimen  of  an  order  under  Cuvier's  class 
Bimana.      The  negroes  certainly  puzzle  me.       All 
the  other  races  seem  plainly  destined  to  extermi- 
nation, not  excepting  even  the  Hebrew  Caucasian. 
But  the  negroes  are  too  important,  physiologically 
and  geographically,  for  one  to  think  of  their  exter- 
mination ;  while  the  repulsion  between  them  and 
the  other  races  seems  too  strong  for  fusion  to  take 
place  to  any  great  extent.      On  one  point  1  heartily 
agree  with  D 'Israeli  as  to  the  superiority  of  the 


VOL   I.  —  9 


of  1848. 


130  Music.  [foleshill, 

Letter  to      Oriental  races, — their   clothes  are  beautiful   and 

J.  Sibree,         ,,      .  i  i  -.^  ■  t  ,    .     , 

beginning  tiieir  mannBis  are  a<freeable.  Did  you  not  think 
the  picture  of  the  Barroui  family  interesting  ?  I 
should  like  to  know  who  are  the  originals.  The 
fellowship  of  race,  to  which  D 'Israeli  so  exult- 
ingly  refers  the  munificence  of  Sidonia,  is  so  evi- 
dently an  inferior  impulse,  which  must  ultimately 
be  superseded,  that  I  wonder  even  he,  Jew  as  he 
is,  dares  to  boast  of  it.  My  Gentile  nature  kicks 
most  resolutely  against  any  assumption  of  supe- 
riority in  the  Jews,  and  is  almost  ready  to  echo 
Voltaire's  vituperation.  I  bow  to  the  supremacy 
of  Hebrew  poetry,  but  much  of  their  early  mytho- 
logy, and  almost  all  their  history,  is  utterly  re- 
volting. Their  stock  has  produced  a  Moses  and  a 
Jesus ;  but  Moses  was  impregnated  with  Egyptian 
philosophy,  and  Jesus  is  venerated  and  adored  by 
us  only  for  that  wherein  He  transcended  or  resisted 
Judaism.  The  very  exaltation  of  their  idea  of  a 
national  deity  into  a  spiritual  monotheism  seems 
to  have  been  borrowed  from  the  other  oriental 
tribes.  Everything  specifically  Jewish  is  of  a  low 
grade. 

And  do  you  really  think  that  sculpture  and 
painting  are  to  die  out  of  the  world?  If  that  be 
so,  let  another  deluge  come  as  quickly  as  possible, 
that  a  new  race  of  Glums  and  Gowries  may  take 
possession  of  this  melancholy  earth.  I  agree  with 
you  as  to  the  inherent  superiority  of  music,  — as 
that  questionable  woman,  the  Countess  Hahn- 
Hahn,  says  painting  and  sculpture  are  but  an 
idealising  of  our  actual  existence.  Mnsic  arches 
over  this  existence  with  another  and  a  diviner. 
Amen,  too,  to  that  ideenvnll  observation  of  Hegel's, 
—  "  We  hardly  know  what  it  is  to  feel  for  human 


18i8.]  Sculpture  and  Painting.  131 

misery  until  we  have  heard  a  shriek:  and  a  more  Letter  to 
nerfect  hell  might  be  made  out  of  sound  than  out  begimuug 
of  any  preparation  of  fire  and  brimstone. "  When 
the  tones  of  our  voice  have  betrayed  peevishness 
or  harshness,  v^^e  seem  to  be  doubly  haunted  by  the 
ghost  of  our  sin :  we  are  doubly  conscious  that  we 
have  been  untrue  to  our  part  in  the  great  Handel 
jhorus.  But  I  cannot  assent  to  the  notion  that 
music  is  to  supersede  the  other  arts,  or  that  the 
highest  minds  must  necessarily  aspire  to  a  sort  of 
Milton  blindness,  in  which  the  tiefste  der  Sinne  is 
to  be  a  substitute  for  all  the  rest.  I  cannot  recog- 
nise the  truth  of  all  that  is  said  about  the  ne- 
cessity of  religious  fervour  to  high  art.  I  am 
sceptical  as  to  the  real  existence  of  such  fervour  in 
any  of  the  greatest  artists.  Artistic  power  seems 
to  me  to  resemble  dramatic  power,  —  to  be  an  in- 
timate perception  of  the  varied  states  of  which  the 
human  mind  is  susceptible,  with  ability  to  give 
them  out  anew  in  intensified  expression.  It  is 
true  that  the  older  the  world  gets,  originality 
becomes  less  possible.  Great  subjects  are  used 
up,  and  civilisation  tends  evermore  to  repress  indi- 
vidual predominance,  highly  wrought  agony,  or 
ecstatic  joy.  But  all  the  gentler  emotions  will  be 
ever  new,  ever  wrought  up  into  more  and  more 
lovely  combinations,  and  genius  will  probably 
take  their  direction. 

Have  you  ever  seen  a  head  of  Christ  taken  from 
a  statue  by  Thorwaldsen  of  Christ  scourged  ?  If 
not,  I  think  it  would  almost  satisfy  you.  There 
is  another  work  of  his,  said  to  be  very  sublime,  of 
the  Archangel  waiting  for  the  command  to  sound 
the  last  trumpet.  Yet  Thorwaldsen  came  at  the 
fag  end  of  time. 


132 


George  Sand. 


[foleshill, 


Letter  to 
J.  Sibree, 
beginning 
of  1848. 


Letter  to 
J.  Sibree, 
beginning 
of  1848. 


I  am  afraid  you  despise  landscape  painting ;  but 
to  me  even  the  works  of  our  own  Stanfield  and 
Roberts  and  Creswick  bring  a  whole  world  of 
thought  and  bliss,  —  "a  sense  of  something  far 
more  deeply  interfused. "  The  ocean  and  the  sky 
and  the  everlasting  hills  are  spirit  to  me,  and  they 
will  never  be  robbed  of  their  sublimity. 

I  have  tired  myself  with  trying  to  write  cleverly,- 
i7ivitd  Minerva,  and  having  in  vain  endeavoured 
to  refresh  myself  by  turning  over  Lavater's  queer 
sketches  of  physiognomies,  and  still  queerer  judg- 
ments on  them,  it  is  a  happy  thought  of  mine  that 
I  have  a  virtuous  reason  for  spending  my  ennui  on 
you. 

I  send  you  a  stanza  I  picked  up  the  other  day  in 
George  Sand's  "  Lettres  d'un  Voyageur, "  which  is 
almost  the  ultimatum  of  human  wisdom  on  the 
question  of  human  sorrow  :  — 

"  Le  bonheur  et  le  malheur, 
Nous  viennent  du  meme  auteur, 
Voila  la  ressemblance. 
Le  bonheur  nous  rend  heureux, 
Et  le  malheur  malheureux, 
Voila  la  diffe'reuce."  , 

Ah,  here  comes  a  cup  of  coffee  to  console  me! 
When  I  have  taken  it,  I  will  tell  you  what  George 
Sand  says :  "  Sais  tu  bien  que  tout  est  dit  devant 
Dieu  et  devant  les  hommes  quand  I'homme  in- 
fortun^  demande  compte  de  ses  maux  et  qu'il 
obtient  cette  rdponse  ?  Qu'y  a-t-il  de  plus  ?  Rien. " 
But  I  am  not  a  mocking  pen,  and  if  I  were  talking 
to  you  instead  of  writing,  you  would  detect  some 
falsity  in  the  ring  of  my  voice.  Alas !  the  atra- 
biliar  patient  you  describe  is  first  cousin  to  me  in 
my  very  worst  moods,  but  I  have  a  profound  faith 


1848.]  Desire  for  Confidences.  133 

that   the    serpent's   head   will   be   bruised.     This  Letter  to 
conscious  kind  of  false  life  that  is  ever  and  anon  beginufug 
endeavouring  to   form  itself   within  us,    and   eat  °^'^^^- 
away  our  true  life,  will  be  overcome  by  continued 
accession  of  vitality,  by  our  perpetual  increase  in 
"  quantity  of  existence, "  as  Foster  calls  it.      Crea- 
tion is  the  superadded  life  of  the  intellect :  sym- 
pathy,  all-embracing  love,   the    superadded  moral 
life.      These  given  more  and   more  abundantly,  I 
feel  that  all  the  demons,  which  are  but  my  own 
egotism  mopping  and  mowing  and  gibbering,  would 
vanish   away,   and  there  would    be  no   place   for 
them,  — 

"  For  every  gift  of  noble  origin 
Is  breathed  upon  by  hope's  perpetual  breath." 

Evils,  even  sorrows,  are  they  not  all  negations  ? 
Thus  matter  is  in  a  perpetual  state  of  decomposi- 
tion, —  superadd  the  principle  of  life,  and  the  ten- 
dency to  decomposition  is  overcome.  Add  to  this 
consciousness,  and  there  is  a  power  of  self-amelio- 
ration. The  passions  and  senses  decompose,  so  to 
speak.  The  intellect  by  its  analytic  power  re- 
strains the  fury  with  which  they  rush  to  their  own 
destruction ;  the  moral  nature  purifies,  beautifies, 
and  at  length  transmutes  them.  But  to  whom  am 
I  talking?  You  know  far  more  sur  ce  chapitre 
than  I. 

Every  one  talks  of  himself  or  herself  to  me,  and 
I  beg  you  will  follow  every  one's  example  in  this 
one  thing  only.  Individuals  are  precious  to  me 
in  proportion  as  they  unfold  to  me  their  intimate 
selves.  I.  have  just  had  lent  me  the  journal  of  a 
person  who  died  some  years  ago.  When  I  was 
less  venerable  I  should  have  felt  the    readiuir  of 


134 


French  Revolution. 


[rOLESHILL, 


Letter  to 
J.  Sibree, 
begiuuing 
of  1848. 


Letter  to 
J.  Sibree, 
Feb.  1848. 


such  a  thing  insupportable ;  now  it  interests  me, 
though  it  is  the  simplest  record  of  events  and 
feelings. 

Mary  says  she  has  told  you  about  Mr.  Dawson 
and  his  lecture,  —  miserably  crude  and  mystifying 
in  some  parts,  but  with  a  few  fine  passages.  He 
is  a  very  delightful  man,  but  not  (at  least  so  say 
my  impressions)  a  great  man.  How  difficult  it  is 
to  be  great  in  this  world  where  there  is  a  tarijfl'  for 
spiritualities  as  well  as  for  beeves  and  cheese  and 
tallow !  It  is  scarcely  possible  for  a  man  simply 
to  give  out  his  true  inspiration,  —  the  real  pro- 
found conviction  which  he  has  won  by  hard 
wrestling,  or  the  few  and  far-between  pearls  of 
imagination :  he  must  go  on  talking  or  writing  by 
rote,  or  he  must  starve.  Would  it  not  be  better 
to  take  to  tent-making  with  Paul,  or  to  spectacle- 
making  with  Spinoza  ? 

Write  and  tell  you  that  I  join  you  in  your 
happiness  about  the  French  devolution  ?  Very 
fine,  my  good  friend.  If  I  made  you  wait  for  a 
letter  as  long  as  you  do  me,  our  little  echantillon 
of  a  millennium  would  be  over:  Satan  would  be 
let  loose  again ;  and  I  should  have  to  share  your 
humiliation  instead  of  your  triumph. 

Nevertheless  I  absolve  you,  for  the  sole  merit  of 
thinking  rightly  (that  is,  of  course,  just  as  I  do) 
about  la  grande  nation  and  its  doings.  You  and 
Carlyle  (have  you  seen  his  article  in  last  week's 
"  Examiner  "  ?)  are  the  only  two  people  who  feel 
just  as  I  would  have  them,  — who  can  glory  in 
wh?t  is  actually  great  and  beautiful  without  put- 
ting forth  any  cold  repervations  and  incredulities 
to  save  their  credit  for  wisdom.  I  am  all  the 
more  delighted  with   your   enthusiasm   because  I 


1848.]  Sympathy  with  Bevolution.  135 

didn't  expect  it.     I  feared  that  you  lacked  revo-  Letter  to 

1        •  1  T.     .  •       i.  J-  Sibree, 

lutionary  ardour.  Isut  uo,  —  you  are  ]ust  as  sans-  Feb.  is48. 
culottish  aud  rash  as  I  would  have  you.  You  are 
not  one  of  those  sages  whose  reason  keeps  so  tight 
a  rein  on  their  emotions  that  they  are  too  con- 
stantly occupied  in  calculating  consequences  to 
rejoice  in  any  great  manifestation  of  the  forces 
that  underlie  our  every-day  existence.  I  should 
have  written  a  soprano  to  your  Jubilate  the  very 
next  day,  but  that,  lest  I  should  be  exalted  above 
measure,  a  messenger  of  Satan  was  sent  in  the 
form  of  a  headache,  and  directly  on  the  back  of 
that  a  face-ache,  so  that  I  have  been  a  mere  victim 
of  sensations,  memories,  and  visions  for  the  last 
week.  I  am  even  now,  as  you  may  imagine,  in  a 
very  shattered,  limbo-like  mental  condition. 

I  thought  we  had  fallen  on  such  evil  days  that 
we  were  to  see  no  really  great  movement,  —  that 
ours  was  what   St.   Simon    calls  a  purely  critical  ^ 

epoch,  not  at  all  an  organic  one ;  but  I  begin  to  be 
glad  of  my  date.  I  would  consent,  however,  to 
have  a  year  dipt  off  my  life  for  the  sake  of  wit- 
nessing such  a  scene  as  that  of  the  men  of  the  bar- 
ricades bowing  to  the  image  of  Christ,  "  who  first 
taught  fraternity  to  men. "  One  trembles  to  look 
into  every  fresh  newspaper  lest  there  should  be 
something  to  mar  the  picture ;  but  hitherto  even 
the  scoffing  newspaper  critics  have  been  compelled 
into  a  tone  of  genuine  respect  for  the  French  peo- 
ple and  the  Provisional  Government.  Lamartine 
can  act  a  poem  if  he  cannot  write  one  of  the  very 
first  order.  I  hope  that  beautiful  face  given  to 
him  in  the  pictorial  newspaper  is  really  his :  it  is 
worthy  of  an  aureolel  I  am  chiefly  anxious  about 
Albert,  the  operative,  but  his  picture  is  not  to  be 


136  Decayed  Monarchs,  [foleshill, 

Letter  to  86611.  I  have  little  patience  with  people  who  can 
reb!'i848.  find  time  to  pity  Louis  Philippe  and  his  mous- 
tachioed sons.  Certainly  our  decayed  monarchs 
should  be  pensioned  off;  we  should  have  a  hospital 
for  them,  or  a  sort  of  zoological  garden,  where 
these  worn-out  humbugs  may  be  preserved.  It  is 
but  justice  that  we  should  keep  them,  since  we 
have  spoiled  them  for  any  honest  trade.  Let  them 
sit  on  soft  cushions,  and  have  their  dinner  regu- 
larly, but,  for  heaven's  sake,  preserve  me  from 
sentimentalising  over  a  pampered  old  man  when 
the  earth  has  its  millions  of  unfed  souls  and 
bodies.  Surely  he  is  not  so  Ahab-like  as  to  wish 
that  the  revolution  had  been  deferred  till  his  son's 
days ;  and  I  think  the  shades  of  the  Stuarts  would 
have  some  reason  to  complain  if  the  Bourbons, 
who  are  so  little  better  than  they,  had  been  allowed 
to  reign  much  longer. 

I  should  have  no  hope  of  good  from  any  imita- 
tive movement  at  home.  Our  working-classes  are 
eminently  inferior  to  the  mass  of  the  French  peo- 
ple. In  Prance  the  mind  of  the  people  is  highly 
electrified ;  they  are  full  of  ideas  on  social  subjects; 
they  really  desire  social  reform,  —  not  merely  an 
acting  out  of  Sancho  Panza's  favourite  proverb, 
"  Yesterday  for  you,  to-day  for  me. "  The  revolu- 
tionary animus  extended  over  the  whole  nation, 
and  embraced  the  rural  population,  —  not  merely, 
as  with  us,  the  artisans  of  the  towns.  Here  there 
is  so  much  larger  a  proportion  of  selfish  radicalism 
and  unsatisfied  brute  sensuality  (in  the  agricultu- 
ral and  mining  districts  especially)  than  of  per- 
ception or  desire  of  justice,  that  a  revolutionary 
movement  would  be  simply  destructive,  not  con- 
structive.    Besides,   it  would  be  put  down.     Our 


1848.]  Necessity  of   Utterance.  137 

military  have  no  notion  of  "  fraternising."  They  Letter  to 
have  the  same  sort  of  inveteracy  as  dogs  have  for  Feb'VlTs. 
the  ill-drest  canaille.  They  are  as  mere  a  brute 
force  as  a  battering-ram ;  and  the  aristocracy  have 
got  firm  hold  of  them.  And  there  is  nothing  in 
our  Constitution  to  obstruct  the  slow  progress  of 
political  reform.  This  is  all  we  are  fit  for  at 
present.  The  social  reform  which  may  prepare  us 
for  great  changes  is  more  and  more  the  object  of 
effort  both  in  Parliament  and  out  of  it.  But  we 
English  are  slow  crawlers.  The  sympathy  in 
Ireland  seems  at  present  only  of  the  water-toast 
kind.  The  Glasgow  riots  are  more  serious ;  but 
one  cannot  believe  in  a  Scotch  Reign  of  Terror  in 
these  days.  I  should  not  be  sorry  to  hear  that  the 
Italians  had  risen  en  masse,  and  chased  the  odious 
Austrians  out  of  beautiful  Lombardy.  But  this 
they  could  hardly  do  without  help,  and  that  in- 
volves another  European  war. 

Concerning  the  "tent-making,"  there  is  much 
more  to  be  said,  but  am  I  to  adopt  your  rule  and 
never  speak  of  what  I  suppose  we  agree  about  ?  It 
is  necessary  to  me,  not  simply  to  he  but  to  utter, 
and  I  require  utterance  of  my  friends.  What  is  it 
to  me  that  I  think  the  same  thoughts  ?  I  think  - 
them  in  a  somewhat  different  fashion.  No  mind 
that  has  any  real  life  is  a  mere  echo  of  another.  If 
the  perfect  unison  comes  occasionally,  as  in  music, 
it  enhances  the  harmonies.  It  is  like  a  diffusion 
or  expansion  of  one's  own  life,  to  be  assured  that 
its  vibrations  are  repeated  in  another,  and  words 
are  the  media  of  those  vibrations.  Is  not  the  uni- 
verse itself  a  perpetual  utterance  of  the  one  Being  ? 
So  I  say  again,  utter,  utter,  utter,  and  it  will  be  a 
deed  of  mercy  twice  blest,  for  I  shall  be  a  safety- 


138       Sympaiky  icith  Nonconformity,     [koleshill 

valve  for  your  commuuicativeness,  and  prevent  it 
from  splitting  honest  people's  brains  who  don't 
understand  you ',  and,  moreover,  it  will  be  fraught 
with  ghostly  comfort  to  me. 
Letter  to  J.  I  might  make  a  very  plausible  excuse  for  not 
fay  eveuiilg.  acknowledging  your  kind  note  earlier,  by  telling 
later  in  1848.  y^^j  ^^vAt  I  havc  been  both  a  nurse  and  invalid; 
but  to  be  thoroughly  ingenuous,  I  must  confess  that 
all  this  would  not  have  been  enough  to  prevent  my 
writing  but  for  my  chronic  disease  of  utter  idleness. 
I  have  heard  and  thought  of  you  with  great  in- 
terest, how^ever.  You  have  my  hearty  and  not  in- 
experienced sympathy  ;  for,  to  speak  in  the  style 
of  Jonathan  Oldbuck,  I  am  hnud  ignara  mali.  1 
have  gone  through  a  trial  of  the  same  genus  as 
yours,  though  rather  differing  in  species.  I  sin- 
cerely rejoice  in  the  step  you  have  taken  ;  it  is  an 
absolutely  necessary  condition  for  any  true  develop- 
ment of  your  nature.  It  was  impossible  to  think  of 
your  career  with  hope,  w'hile  you  tacitly  subscribed 
to  the  miserable  etiquette  (it  deserves  no  better  or 
more  spiritual  name)  of  sectarianisnL  Only  per- 
severe, —  be  true,  firm,  and  loving,  —  not  too  anx- 
ious about  immediate  usefulness  to  others,  —  that 
can  only  be  a  result  of  justice  to  yourself.  Study 
mental  hygiene.  Take  long  doses  of  dolce  far 
niente,  and  be  in  no  great  hurry  about  anything  in 
this  'varsal  world  !  Do  we  not  commit  ourselves 
to  sleep,  and  so  resign  all  care  for  ourselves  every 
night,  lay  ourselves  gently  on  the  bosom  of  nature 
or  God  ?  A  beautiful  reproach  to  the  spirit  of  some 
religionists  and  ultra-good  people  ! 

I  like  the  notion  of  your  going  to  Germany  as 
good  in  every  way,  for  yourself,  body  and  mind, 
and  for  all  others.     Oh  the  bliss  of  having  a  very 


1848.]  Concerning  Correspondence.  139 

high  attic  in    a   romantic  Continental  town,   such  Letter  to  j. 

rt  n  c  •111-         Sibree,  Sun- 

as  Geneva,  —  lar  away  irom  mornnig-callers,  dni-  day  evening. 
ners,  and  decencies,  and  then  to  pause  for  a  year  ^'*''"»^^*^ 
and  think  de  omnibus  rebus  ei  quibusdam  aliis,  and 
then  to  return  to  life,  and  work  for  poor  stricken 
humanity,  and  never  think  of  self  again  !  ^ 

I  am  writing  nearly  in  the  dark,  with  the  post- 
boy waiting.  1  fear  I  shall  not  be  at  home  when 
you  come  home,  but  surely  I  shall  see  you  before 
you  leave  England.  However  that  may  be,  I  shall 
■utter  a  genuine  Leheivohl. 

in  my  view  there  are  but  two  kinds  of  regular  Letter  to 

T  '■,  1  c         •         ^  CL'  Miss  Sara 

correspondence  possible,  —  one  of  simple  artec-  Henueii,  ist 
tion,  which  gives  a  picture  of  all  the  details,  pain-  ^^^'  ^^'^^' 
ful  and  •  pleasurable,  that  a  loving  heart  pines  after, 
and  this  we  carry  on  through  the  medium  of  Cara; 
or  one  purely  moral  and  intellectual,  caiTied  on  for 
the  sake  of  ghostly  edification,  in  which  each  party 
has  to  put  salt  on  the  tails  of  all  sorts  of  ideas  on 
all  sorts  of  subjects,  in  order  to  send  a  weekly  or 
fortnightly  packet,  as  so  much  duty  and  self-casti- 
gation.  I  have  always  been  given  to  understand 
tliat  such  Lady-Jane-Grey-like  works  were  your 
abhorrence.  However,  let  me  know  what  you 
would  like,  —  what  would  make  you  continue  to 
hold  me  in  loving  remembrance  or  convince  you 
that  you  are  a  bright  evergreen  in  my  garden  of 
pleasant  plants.  Behold  me  ready  to  tear  off  my 
right  hand  or  pluck  out  my  right  eye  (metaphori- 
cally, of  course,  —  I  speak  to  an  experienced  exege- 
tist,  comme  dirait  noire  Strauss),  or  write  reams  of 
letters  full  of  interesting  falsehoods  or  very  dull 
truths.  We  have  always  concluded  that  our  cor- 
respondence should  be  of  the  third  possible  kind,-— 
^  An  Ahnung  —  a  presentiment  —  of  her  own  future. 


140 


Father  III. 


[sT.  LEONARDS, 


Letter  to 
Mis&  Sara 
Ueuuell, 
14th  April, 

1S48. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Heunell, 
20th  April, 
1848. 


Letter  to 
Chas.  Bray, 
May  1848. 


one  of  impulse,  which  is  necessarily  irregular  as  the 
Northern  lights. 

I  am  a  miserable  wretch,  with  aching  limbs  and 
sinking  spirits,  but  still  alive  enough  to  feel  the  kind- 
ness of  your  last  note.  I  thoroughly  enjoyed  your 
delight  in  Emerson.  I  should  have  liked  to  see 
you  sitting  by  him  "with  awful  eye,"  for  once  in 
your  life  feeling  all  the  bliss  of  veneration.  I  am 
C[;uite  uncertain  about  our  movements.  .Dear  father 
gets  on  very  slowly,  if  at  all.  You  will  understand 
the  impossibility  of  my  forming  any  plans  for  my 
own  pleasure.  Rest  is  the  only  thing  I  can  think 
of  with  pleasure  now. 

Dear  father  is  so  decidedly  progressing  towards 
recovery  that  I  am  full  of  quiet  joy,  —  a  gentle 
dawning  light  after  the  moonlight  of  sorrow.  I 
have  found  already  some  of  the  "  sweet  uses  "  that 
belong  only  to  what  is  called  trouble,  which  is,  after 
all,  only  a  deepened  gaze  into  life,  like  the  sight  of 
the  darker  blue  and  the  thickening  host  of  stars 
when  the  hazy  effect  of  twilight  is  gone,  —  as  our 
dear  Blanco  White  said  of  death.  I  shall  have  less 
time  than  I  have  had  at  my  own  disposal  probably ; 
but  I  feel  prepared  to  accept  life,  nay,  lovingly  to 
embrace  it  in  any  form  in  which  it  shall  present 
itself. 

Sometime  in  May,  Mr.  Evans  and  his  daugh- 
ter went  to  St.   Leonards,  and  remained  there 
till  near  the  end  of  June.     His  mortal  illness 
had  now  taken  hold  of  him,  and  this  was  a  de- 
pressing time  both  for  him  and  for  her,  as  will 
be  seen  from  the  following  letters :  — 
Your  words  of  affection  seem  to  make  this  earthly 
atmosphere  sit  less  heavily  on  my  shoulders,  and  in 
gratitude  I  must  send  you  my  thanks  before  I  begin 


1848.]  Depression.  141 

to  read  of  Henry  Gow  and  Fair  Catharine  for  father's  Letter  to 
delectation.  In  truth,  I  have  found  it  somewhat  Mly^isS!' 
difficult  to  live  for  the  last  week,  —  conscious  all  the 
time  that  the  only  additions  to  my  lot  worth  having 
must  be  more  strength  to  love  in  my  own  nature ; 
but  perhaps  this  very  consciousness  has  an  irritating 
rather  than  a  soothing  effect,  I  have  a  fit  of  sensi- 
tiveness upon  me,  which  after  all  is  but  egotism  and 
mental  idleness.  The  enthusiasm  without  which 
one  cannot  even  pour  out  breakfast  well  (at  least 
1  cannot),  has  forsaken  me.  You  may  laugh  and 
wonder  when  my  enthusiasm  has  displayed  itself, 
but  that  will  only  prove  that  you  are  no  seer.  I 
can  never  live  long  without  it  in  some  form  or 
other.  I  possess  my  soul  in  patience  for  a  time, 
believing  that  this  dark,  damp  vault  in  which  I  am 
groping  will  soon  come  to  an  end,  and  the  fresh 
green  earth  and  the  bright  sky  be  all  the  more 
precious  to  me.  But  for  the  present  my  address  is 
Grief  Castle,  on  the  River  of  Gloom,  in  the  Valley 
of  Dolour.  I  was  amused  to  find  that  Castle  Camp- 
bell in  Scotland  was  called  so.  Truly  for  many 
seasons  in  my  life  I  should  have  been  an  appro- 
priate denizen  of  such  a  place;  but  I  have  faith 
that  unless  I  am  destined  to  insanity,  I  shall  never 
again  abide  long  in  that  same  castle.  I  heartily 
say  Amen  to  your  dictum  about  the  cheerfulness 
of  "  large  moral  regions."  Where  thought  and  love 
are  active,  —  thought  the  formative  power,  love  the 
vitalising,  —  there  can  be  no  sadness.  They  are  in 
themselves  a  more  intense  and  extended  partici- 
pation of  a  divine  existence.  As  they  grow,  the 
highest  species  of  faith  grows  too,  and  all  things 
are  possible.  I  don't  know  why  I  should  prose  in 
this  way  to  you      But  I  wanted  to  thank  you  for 


142 


Depression. 


[sT.  LEONARDS, 


Letter  to 
Chas.  Bray, 
31st  May, 
1848. 


Letter  tc 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
Itli  June, 
1648. 


your  note,  and  all  this  selfish  grumblmg  was  at  my 
pen's  end.  And  now  I  have  no  time  to  redeem 
myself.  We  shall  not  stay  long  away  from  home, 
I  feel  sure. 

Father  has  done  wonders  in  the  way  of  walking 
and  eating,  —  for  him,  —  but  he  makes  not  the 
slightest  attempt  to  amuse  himself,  so  that  I 
scarcely  feel  easy  in  following  my  own  bent  even 
for  an  hour.  I  have  told  you  everything  now, 
except  that  I  look  amiable  in  spite  of  a  strong 
tendency  to  look  black,  and  speak  gently,  thou 
with  a  strong  propensity  to  be  snappish.  Pity 
ye  happier  spirits  that  look  amiable  and  speak 
gently,   because   ye    are   amiable    and   gentle. 

Alas  for  the  fate  of  poor  mortals  which  condemns 
them  to  wake  up  some  fine  morning  and  find  all  the 
poetry  in  which  their  world  was  bathed,  only  the 
evening  before,  utterly  gone  !  —  the  hard,  angular 
world  of  chairs  and  tables  and  looking-glasses  star- 
ing at  them  in  all  its  naked  prose  !  It  is  so  in  all 
the  stages  of  life :  the  poetry  of  girlhood  goes,  —  the 
poetry  of  love  and  marriage,  —  the  poetry  of 
maternity,  —  and  at  last  the  very  poetry  of  duty 
forsakes  us  for  a  season,  and  we  see  ourselves,  and 
all  about  us,  as  nothing  more  than  miserable  ag- 
glomerations of  atoms,  —  poor  tentative  efforts  of 
the  Natur  Princip  to  mould  a  personality.  This 
is  the  state  of  prostration,  —  the  self-abnegation 
through  which  the  soul  must  go,  and  to  which 
perhaps  it  must  again  and  again  return,  that  its 
poetry  or  religion,  which  is  the  same  thing,  may  be 
a  real  ever  flowing  river,  fresh  from  the  windows 
of  heaven  and  the  fountains  of  the  great  deep, — 
not  an  artificial  basin,  with  grotto-work  and  gold- 
fish.    I  feel  a  sort  of  madness  growing  upon  me,  — 


1848.]  Louis  Blanc.  143 

just  the  opposite  of  the  dehrium  which  makes 
people  fancy  that  their  bodies  are  fiUing  the  room. 
It  seems  to  me  as  if  I  were  shrinking  into  that 
mathematical  abstraction,  a  point.  But  I  am  wast- 
ing this  "  good  Sunday  morning  "  in  grumblings. 

Poor  Louis  Blanc!  The  newspapers  make  me  Letter  to 
melancholy ;  but  shame  upon  me  that  I  say  "  poor."  sth'juuef^' 
The  day  will  come  when  there  will  be  a  temple  of 
white  marble,  where  sweet  incense  and  anthems 
shall  rise  to  the  memory  of  every  man  and  woman 
who  has  had  a  deep  Ahnung,  a  presentiment,  a 
yearning,  or  a  clear  vision  of  the  time  when  this 
miserable  reigfi  of  Mammon  shall  end,  —  when  men 
shall  be  no  longer  "  like  the  fishes  of  the  sea, "  — 
society  no  more  like  a  face  one  half  of  which  —  the 
side  of  profession,  of  lip-faith  —  is  fair  and  God-like, 
the  other  half  —  the  side  of  deeds  and  institutions  — 
with  a  hard  old  wrinkled  skin  puckered  into  the 
sneer  of  a  Mephistopheles.  I  worship  the  man  who 
has  written  as  the  climax  of  his  appeal  against 
society,  "  L'indgalitd  des  talents  doit  ahoutir  non  a 
I'in^galitd  des  retributions  mais  a  I'in^galit^  des 
devoirs."  You  will  wonder  what  has  wrought  me 
up  into  this  fury.  It  is  the  loathsome  fawning,  the 
transparent  hypocrisy,  the  systematic  giving  as  little 
as  possible  for  as  much  as  possible,  that  one  meets 
with  here  at  every  turn.  I  feel  that  society  is 
training   men   and   women    for   hell. 

All  creatures  about  to  moult,  or  to  cast  off  an  old  Letter  to 
skin,   or   enter   on    any  new   metamorphosis,   have  Heuneii,  23(i 
sickly  feelings.     It  was  so  with  me.     But   now   I    "''^' 
am  set  free  from  the  irritating  worn-out  integument. 
I  am  entering  on  a  new  period  of  my  life,  which 
makes   me   look   back   on    the   past   as  something 
incredibly  poor  and  contemptible.     I  am   enjoying 


144 


Emerson. 


[foleshill, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
HenneU,  23d 
June,  1848. 


Letter  to 
Clias.  Bray, 
June,  1848. 


Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
Friday, 
July,  1848. 


repose,  strength,  and  ardour  in  a  greater  degree 
than  I  have  ever  known,  and  yet  I  never  felt  my 
own  insignificance  and  imperfection  so  completely. 
My  heart  bleeds  for  dear  father's  pains,  but  it  is 
blessed  to  be  at  hand  to  give  the  soothing  word  and 
act  needed.  I  should  not  have  written  this  descrip- 
tion of  myself  but  that  I  felt  your  affectionate  letter 
demanded  some  I-ism,  which,  after  all,  is  often 
humility  rather  than  pride.  Paris,  poor  Paris  — 
alas !  alas ! 

I  have  read  "  Jane  Eyre,"  and  shall  be  glad  to 
know  what  you  admire  in  it.  All  self-sacrifice  is 
good,  but  one  would  like  it  to  be  in  a  somewhat 
nobler  cause  than  that  of  a  diabolical  law  which 
chains  a  man  soul  and  body  to  a  putrefying  carcase. 
However  the  book  is  interesting ;  only  I  wish  the 
characters  would  talk  a  little  less  like  the  heroes 
and  heroines  of  police  reports. 

About    the    beginning    of  July  Miss   Evans 

and  her  father  returned  to  Coventry ;  and  the 

13th  July  was  a  memorable  day,  as  Emerson 

came  to  visit  the  Brays,   and  she  went  with 

them  to  Stratford.     All  she  says  herself  about 

it  is  in  this  note. 

I  have  seen  Emerson,  —  the  first  man  I  have  ever 

seen.      But  you  have  seen  still  more  of  him,  so  I 

need  not  tell  you  what  he  is.      I  shall  leave  Cara 

to  tell    how  the    day  —  the    Emerson    day  —  was 

spent,  for  I  have  a  swimming  head  from  hanging 

over  the  desk  to  write  business  letters  for  father. 

Have  you  seen  the  review  of    Strauss 's  pamphlet 

in  the  "  Edinburgh  "  ?     The  title  is  "  Der  Eoman- 

tiker  auf  dem   Throne   der  Ciisaren,    oder  Julian 

der  Abtrlinnige, "  —  a  sort  of  erudite  satire  on  the 

King  of  Prussia ;  but  the  reviewer  pronounces  it  to 


1848.]  Carlyle  on  Emerson.  145 

have  a  permanent  value  quite  apart  from  this  fugi-  Letter  to 
tive  interest.  The  "  Eomantiker, "  or  Eomanticist,  Heuueiir 
is  one  who,  in  literature,  in  the  arts,  in  religion  july^^ks. 
or  politics,  endeavours  to  revive  the  dead  past. 
Julian  was  a  romanticist  in  wishing  to  restore  the 
Greek  religion  and  its  spirit,  when  mankind  had 
entered  on  the  new  development.  But  you  have 
very  likely  seen  the  review.  I  must  copy  one 
passage,  translated  from  the  conclusion  of  Strauss 's 
pamphlet,  lest  you  should  not  have  met  with  it. 
"  Christian  writers  have  disfigured  the  death -scene 
of  Julian.  They  have  represented  him  as  furious, 
blaspheming,  despairing,  and  in  his  despair  ex- 
claiming, Thou  hast  conquered,  0  Galilean, 
'vevLKT]Ka<;  TaXiXale  ' !  This  phrase,  though  false 
as  history,  has  a  truth  in  it.  It  contains  a 
prophecy,  —  to  us  a  consoling  prophecy,  —  and  it 
is  this :  Every  Julian  —  i.  e. ,  every  great  and 
powerful  man  —  who  would  attempt  to  resuscitate 
a  state  of  society  which  has  died,  will  infallibly 
be  vanquished  by  the  Galilean,  —  for  the  Galilean 
is  nothing  less  than  the  genius  of  the  future !  " 

Father's  tongvie  has  just  given  utterance  to  a  Letter  to 
thought  which  has  been  very  visibly  radiating  from  Henneii, 
his  eager  eyes  for  some  minutes,  — "I  thought  you 
were  going  on  with  the  book. "  I  can  only  bless 
you  for  those  two  notes,  which  have  emanated 
from  you  like  so  much  ambrosial  scent  from  roses 
and  lavender.  Not  less  am  I  grateful  for  the 
Carlyle  eulogium.  ^  I  have  shed  some  quite  deli- 
cious tears  over  it.  This  is  a  world  worth  abiding 
in  while  one  man  can  thus  venerate  and  love 
another.  More  anon,  —  this  from  my  doleful 
prison  of  stupidity  and  barrenness,  with  a  yawn- 

1  On  Emerson. 

VOL   I.  —  10 


Dec.  1848 


146 


Francis  Newman. 


[foleshilt,, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
Dec.  1848. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
end  of  1848. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hsnnell, 
Jan.  1849. 


ing  trap-door  ready  to  let  me  down  into  utter 
fatuity.  But  I  can  even  yet  feel  the  omnipotence 
of  a  glorious  chord.  Poor  pebble  as  I  am,  left 
entangled  among  slimy  weeds,  I  can  yet  hear  from 
afar  the  rushing  of  the  blessed  torrent,  and  rejoice 
that  it  is  there  to  bathe  and  brighten  other  pebbles 
less  unworthy  of  the  polishing. 

Thank  you  for  a  sight  of  our  blessed  St.  Francis 's  ^ 
letter.  There  is  no  imaginable  moment  in  which 
the  thought  of  such  a  being  could  be  an  intrusion. 
His  soul  is  a  blessed  yea.  There  is  a  sort  of  blas- 
phemy in  that  proverbial  phrase,  "  Too  good  to  be 
true. "  The  highest  inspiration  of  the  purest, 
noblest  human  soul  is  the  nearest  expression  of 
the  truth.  Those  extinct  volcanoes  of  one's  spirit- 
ual life  —  those  eruptions  of  the  intellect  and  the 
passions  which  have  scattered  the  lava  of  doubt 
and  negation  over  our  early  faith  —  are  only  a 
glorious  Himalayan  chain,  beneath  which  new 
valleys  of  undreamed  richness  and 
spread  themselves.  Shall  we  poor 
have    sublimer   thoughts    than    the 


beauty  will 

earthworms 

universe,    of 


which  we  are  poor  chips,  —  mere  effluvia  of  mind, 
—  shall  we  have  sublimer  thoughts  than  that  uni- 
verse can  furnish  out  into  reality  ?  I  am  living 
unspeakable  moments,  and  can  write  no  more. 

I  think  of  you  perpetually,  but  my  thoughts  are 
all  aqueous;  they  will  not  crystallise,  — they  are 
as  fleeting  as  ripples  on  the  sea.  I  am  sufiering 
perhaps  as  acutely  as  ever  I  did  in  my  life. 
Breathe  a  wish  that  I  may  gather  strength,  —  the 
fragrance  of  your  wish  will  reach  me  somehow. 

The  next  letter  is  to  Mrs.   Houghton,  who, 
it  will  be  remembered,  was  the  only  daughter 
1  Francis  Newman. 


1849.]  Contrition  for  Evil  Speaking.  147 

by  Mr.    Evans's    first  marriage.      Miss  Evans 
had  more  intellectual  sympathy  with  this  half- 
sister  Fanny  than  with  any  of  the  other  mem- 
bers of  her  family,  and  it  is  a  pity  that  more 
of  the  letters  to  her  have  not  been  preserved. 
I  have  been  holding  a  court  of  conscience,  and  I  Letter  to 
cannot  enjoy  my  Sunday's  music  without  restoring  ?Jn%^ndiy 
harmony,  without  entering  a  protest  against  that  Tm?^' 
superficial  soul  of  mine  which  is  perpetually  con- 
tradicting and  belying  the  true  inner  soul.     I  am 
in  that  mood  which,  in  another  age  of  the  world, 
would  have  led  me  to  put  on  sackcloth  and  pour 
ashes  on  my  head,  when  I  call  to  mind  the  sins  of 
my  tongue,  —  my  animadversions  on  the  faults  of 
others,    as   if  I   thought   myself  to  be  something 
when  I  am  nothing.      When  shall  I  attain  to  the 
true  spirit  of  love  which  Paul  has  taught  for  all 
the    ages  ?     I    want    no    one    to   excuse   me,    dear 
Fanny,  —  I  only  want  to  remove  the  shadow  of  my 
miserable  words  and  deeds  from  before  the  divine 
image  of  truth  and  goodness,  which  I  would  have 
all  beings  worship.      I  need  the  Jesuits'  discipline 
of  silence,  and  though  my  "  evil  speaking  "  issues 
from   the   intellectual   point  of   view   rather  than 
the    moral,  —  though    there   may   be  gall    in    the 
thought  while  there  is  honey  in  the  feeling,   yet 
the    evil    speaking    is    wrong.       We    may   satirise 
character  and   qualities    in   the    abstract    without 
injury   to  our  moral   nature,   but   persons    hardly 
ever.      Poor  hints    and    sketches    of    souls    as    we 
are,  —  with    some   slight   transient  vision  of    the 
perfect  and    the  true,  —  we    had    need    help  each 
other  to   gaze    at    the   blessed  heavens   instead   of 
peering    into   each    other's   eyes    to   find  out    the 
motes  there. 


148 


Bodily  Suffering. 


[foleshill, 


Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 

Heunell, 

Suuday 

morning, 

4th  Feb. 

1849. 


I  have  not  touched  the  piano  for  nearly  two 
months  until  this  morning,  when,  father  being 
better,  I  was  determined  to  play  a  mass  before  the 
piano  is  utterly  out  of  tune  again.  Write,  asking 
for  notlmig  again,  like  a  true  disciple  of  Jesus.  I 
am  still  feeling  rather  shattered  in  brain  and 
limbs,  but  do  not  suppose  that  I  lack  inward 
peace  and  strength.  My  body  is  the  defaulter,  — 
consciously  so.  I  triumph  over  all  things  in  the 
spirit,  but  the  flesh  is  weak,  and  disgraces  itself 
by  headaches  and  backaches.  I  am  delighted  to 
find  that  you  mention  Macaulay,  because  that  is 
an  indication  that  Mr.  Hennell  has  been  reading 
him.  I  thought  of  Mr.  H.  all  through  the  book, 
as  the  only  person  I  could  be  quite  sure  would 
enjoy  it  as  much  as  I  did  myself.  I  did  not  know 
if  it  would  interest  you :  tell  me  more  explicitly 
that  it  does.  Think  of  Babylon  being  unearthed 
in  spite  of  the  prophecies  ?  Truly  we  are  looking 
before  and  after,  "  au  jour  d'aujourd'hui,"  as 
Monsieur  Bricolin  says.  Send  me  the  criticism 
of  Jacques  the  morn's  morning, — only  beware 
there  are  not  too  many  blasphemies  against  my 
divinity. 

Paint  soap-bubbles,  —  and  never  fear  but  I  will 
find  a  meaning,  though  very  likely  not  your  mean- 
ing. Paint  the  crucifixion  in  a  bubble,  —  after 
Turner,  —  and  then  the  resurrection :  I  see  them 
now. 

There  has  been  a  vulgar  man  sitting  by  while  I 
have  been  writing,  and  I  have  been  saying  paren- 
thetical bits  of  civility  to  him  to  help  out  poor 
father  in  his  conversation,  so  I  have  not  been  quite 
sure  what  I  have  been  saying  to  you.  I  have  woful 
aches  which  take  up  half  my  nervous  strength. 


1849.]  Rousseau.  149 

My  life  is  a  perpetual  nightmare,  and  always  Letter  to 
haunted  by  something  to  be  done,  which  I  have  Henueu^gth 
never  the  time,  or  rather  the  energy,  to  do.  ^^^'  ^^^' 
Opportunity  is  kind,  but  only  to  the  industrious, 
and  I,  alas !  am  not  one  of  them.  I  have  sat 
down  in  desperation  this  evening,  though  dear 
father  is  very  uneasy,  and  his  moans  distract  me, 
just  to  tell  you  that  you  have  full  absolution  for 
your  criticism,  which  I  do  not  reckon  of  the  im- 
pertinent order.  I  wish  you  thoroughly  to  under- 
stand that  the  writers  who  have  most  profoundly 
iniiuenced  me,  —  who  have  rolled  away  the  waters 
from  their  bed,  raised  new  mountains  and  spread 
delicious  valleys  for  me,  ■ —  are  not  in  the  least 
oracles  to  me.  It  is  just  possible  that  I  may  not 
embrace  one  of  their  opinions,  —  that  I  may  wish 
my  life  to  be  shaped  quite  differently  from  theirs. 
For  instance,  it  would  signify  nothing  to  mi'  if  a 
very  wise  person  were  to  stun  me  with  proofs  that 
Rousseau's  views  of  life,  religion,  and  government 
are  miserably  erroneous,  —  that  he  was  guilty  of 
some  of  the  worst  hnssesscs  that  have  degraded 
civilised  man.  I  might  admit  all  this :  and  it 
would  be  not  the  less  true  that  Eousseau's  genius 
has  sent  that  electric  thrill  through  my  intellect- 
ual and  moral  frame  which  has  awakened  me  to 
new  perceptions,  —  which  has  made  man  and 
nature  a  fresh  world  of  thought  and  feeling  to 
me ;  and  this  not  by  teaching  me  any  new  belief. 
It  is  simply  that  the  rushing  mighty  wind  of  his 
inspiration  has  so  quickened  my  faculties  that  I 
have  been  able  to  shape  more  definitely  for  myself 
ideas  whicli  had  previously  dwelt  as  dim  Ahmmgen 
in  my  soul ;  the  fire  of  his  genius  has  so  fused 
together  old  thoughts  and  prejudices,  that  I  have 
been  ready  to  make  new  combinations. 


150  Infiuence  of  Geofge  Sand,      [folf.siiill, 

Letter  to  It  IS  thus  witli   GeoigG  Sand.     I  should  never 

Henu!u?9th  dream  of  going  to  her  writings  as  a  moral  code  or 
Feb.  1849.  text-book.  Idon't  care  whether  I  agree  with  her 
about  marriage  or  not,  —  whether  I  think  the 
design  of  her  plot  correct,  or  that  she  had  no  pre- 
cise design  at  all,  but  began  to  write  as  the  spirit 
moved  her,  and  trusted  to  Providence  for  the  ca- 
tastrophe, which  I  think  the  more  probable  case. 
It  is  sufficient  for  me,  as  a  reason  for  bowing  before 
her  in  eternal  gratitude  to  that  "  great  power  of 
God  manifested  in  her,"  that  I  cannot  read  six 
pages  of  hers  without  feeling  that  it  is  given  to 
her  to  delineate  human  passion  and  its  results  and 
(I  must  say,  in  spite  of  your  judgment)  some  of 
the  moral  instincts  and  their  tendencies,  with 
such  truthfulness,  such  nicety  of  discrimination, 
such  tragic  power,  and  withal,  such  loving,  gentle 
humour,  that  one  might  live  a  century  with  noth- 
ing but  one's  own  dull  faculties,  and  not  know  so 
much  as  those  six  pages  will  suggest.  The  psycho- 
logical anatomy  of  Jacques  and  Fernande  in  the  early 
days  of  their  marriage  seems  quite  preternaturally 
true,  —  I  mean  that  her  power  of  describing  it  is 
preternatural.  Fernande  and  Jacques  are  merely 
the  feminine  and  the  masculine  nature,  and  their 
early  married  life  an  every-day  tragedy ;  but  I  will 
not  dilate  on  the  book  or  on  your  criticism,  for  I 
am  so  sleepy  that  I  should  write  nothing  but 
hetises.  I  have  at  last  the  most  delightful  "  De 
Imitatione  Christi,"  with  quaint  woodcuts.  One 
breathes  a  cool  air  as  of  cloisters  in  the  book,  —  it 
makes  one  long  to  be  a  saint  for  a  few  months. 
Verily  its  piety  has  its  foundations  in  the  depth  of 
the  divine-human  soul. 

In  March  Miss  Evans  wrote  a  short  notice  of 


1849.]         Reviews  the  "  Nemesis  of  Faith."  151 

the     "  Nemesis    of    Taith "  for   the  "  Coventry 

Herald,"  in  which  she  says :  — 

"  We  are  sure  that  its  author  is  a  bright  particular 

star,   though    he    sometimes    leaves   us   in   doubt 

whether  he  be  not  a  fallen  '  son  of  the  morning.' " 

The   paper  was  sent  to  Mr.  Froude,  and  on 

23d  March  Mrs.  Bray  writes  to  Miss  Hennell : 

"Last  night  at  dusk  M.  A.   came  running   in 

in  high  glee  with  a  most  charming  note  from 

Troude,  nai'vely  and  prettily  requesting  her  to 

reveal  herself.     He  says  he  recognised  her  hand 

in  the  review  in  the  '  Coventry  Herald,'  and  if 

she  thinks  him  a  fallen  star  she  might  help  him 

to  rise,  but  he  '  believes  he  has  only  been  dipped 

in  the  Styx,  and  is  not  much  the  worse  for  the 

bath.'     Poor  girl,  I  am  so  pleased  she  should 

have  this  little  episode  in  her  dull  life." 

The  next  letter  again  refers  to  Mr.  Froude's 
books. 
Tell  me  not  that  I  am  a  mere  prater,  —  that  feel-  Letter  to 
ing  never  talks.     I  will  talk,  and  caress,  and  look  Hennefir 
lovingly,  until   death    makes    me    as  stony  as  the  Aprli^^im' 
Gorgon-like    heads    of   all   the  judicious   people  I 
know.     What  is  anything  worth  until  it  is  uttered  ? 
Is  not  the  universe  one  great  utterance  ?    Utterance 
there  must  be  in  word  or  deed  to  make  life  of  any 
worth.     Every  true  pentecost  is  a  gift  of  utterance. 
Life  is  too  short  and  opportunities  too  meagre  for 
many  deeds  ;  besides,  the  best  friendships  are  pre- 
cisely those  where  there  is  no  possibility  of  material 
helpfulness,  —  and  I  would  take  no   deeds   as   an 
adequate  compensation  for  the  frigid  glassy  eye  and 
hard  indifferent  tones  of  one's  very  solid  and  sen- 
sible and  conscientious  friend.     You  will  wonder  of 
what  this  is  apropos,  —  only  of  a  little  bitterness  in 


152    Froude^s  "  Shadows  of  the  Clouds."    [foleshill, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Henuell, 
Wednesday, 
AprU,  1849. 


my  own  soul  just  at  this  moment,  and  not  of  any- 
thing between  you  and  me.  I  have  nothing  to  tell 
you,  for  all  the  "  haps  "  of  my  life  are  so  indifferent. 
I  spin  my  existence  so  entirely  out  of  myself  that 
there  is  a  sad  want  of  proper  names  in  my  conversa- 
tion, and  I  am  becoming  a  greater  bore  than  ever. 
It  is  a  consciousness  of  this  that  has  kept  me  from 
writing  to  you.  My  letters  v/ould  be  a  sort  of  her- 
mit's diary.  I  have  so  liked  the  thought  of  your 
enjoying  the  "Nemesis  of  Faith."  I  quote  Keats's 
sonnet  apropos  of  that  book.    It  has  made  me  feel  — ■ 

"  Like  some  watcher  of  the  skies 
When  a  new  planet  swims  into  his  ken  ; 
Or  like  stout  Cortez  —  when  with  eagle  eyes 
He  stared  at  the  Pacific,  and  all  his  men 
Look'd  at  each  other  with  a  wild  surmise,  — 
Silent,  upon  a  peak  in  Darien." 

You  must  read  "  The  Shadows  of  the  Clouds."  It 
produces  a  sort  of  palpitation  that  one  hardly  knows 
whether  to  call  wretched  or  delightful.  I  cannot 
take  up  the  book  again,  though  wanting  very  much 
to  read  it  more  closely.  Poor  and  shallow  as  one's 
own  soul  is,  it  is  blessed  to  think  that  a  sort  of 
transubstantiation  is  possible  by  which  the  greater 
ones  can  live  in  us.  Egotism  apart,  anotlier's  great- 
ness, beauty,  or  bliss  is  one's  own.  And  let  us  sing 
a  Magnificat  when  we  are  conscious  that  this  power 
of  expansion  and  sympathy  is  growing,  just  in  pro- 
portion as  the  individual  satisfactions  are  lessening. 
Miserable  dust  of  the  earth  we  are,  but  it  is  worth 
while  to  be  so,  for  the  sake  of  the  living  soul,  —  the 
breath  of  God  within  us.  You  see  I  can  do  nothing 
but  scribble  my  own  prosy  stuff,  —  such  chopped 
straw  as  my  soul  is  foddered  on.  I  am  translating 
the  "  Tractatus  Theologico-Politicus  "  of  Spinoza,  and 


1849,]  Consolations  of  Nursing.  153 

seem  to  want  the  only  friend  that  knows  how  to  Letter  to 
praise  or  blame.     How  exquisite  is  the  satisfaction  He^iLei™ 
of  feeling  that  another  mind  than  your  own  sees  Aprir.^msL 
precisely  where  and  what  is  the  difficulty,  —  and 
can  exactly  appreciate  the  success  with  which  it  is 
overcome.       One    knows  —  sed   longo    iiitei^vallo  — 
the  full  meaning  of  the  '*  fit  audience  though  few." 
How  an  artist  must  hate  the  noodles  that  stare  at 
his  picture,  with  a  vague  notion  that  it  is  a  clever 
thing  to  be  able  to  paint ! 

I  know  it  will  gladden  your  heart  to  hear  that  Letter  to 
father  spoke  of  you  the  other  day  with  affection  and  loth  May7' 
gratitude.  He  remembers  you  as  one  who  helped  ^^^' 
to  strengthen  that  beautiful  spirit  of  resignation 
which  has  never  left  him  through  his  long  trial. 
His  mind  is  as  clear  and  rational  as  ever,  notwith- 
standing his  feebleness,  and  lie  gives  me  a  thousand 
little  proofs  that  he  understands  my  affection  and 
responds  to  it.  These  are  very  precious  moments  to 
me  ;  my  chair  by  father's  bedside  is  a  very  blessed 
seat  to  me.  My  delight  in  the  idea  that  you  are 
being  benefited  after  all,  prevents  me  from  regret- 
ting you,  tliough  you  are  just  the  friend  that  would 
complete  my  comfort.  Every  addition  to  your 
power  of  enjoying  life  is  an  expansion  of  mine.  I 
partake  of  your  ebb  and  flow.  I  am  going  to  my 
post  now.  I  have  just  snatched  an  interval  to  let 
you  know  that  though  you  have  taken  away  a  part 
of  yourself  from  me,  neither  you  nor  any  one  else 
can  take  the  whole. 

It  will  have  been  seen  from  these  late  letters, 
that  the  last  few  months  of  her  father's  illness 
had  been  a  terrible  strain  on  his  daughter's 
health  and  spirits.  She  did  all  the  nursing  her- 
self, and  Mrs.  Congreve  (who  was  then  Miss  Bury, 


154 


End  of  Father's  Illness,     [foleshill, 


Letter  to 
the  Brays, 
half-past 
nine, 

Wednesday 
morning, 
31  St  May, 
18i9. 


daughter  of  the  doctor  who  was  attending  Mr- 
Evans,  —  and  who,  it  will  be  seen,  subsequently 
became  perhaps  the  most  intimate  and  the 
closest  of  George  Eliot's  friends)  tells  me  that 
her  father  told  her  at  the  time,  that  he  never 
saw  a  patient  more  admirably  and  thoroughly 
cared  for.  The  translating  was  a  great  relief 
when  she  could  get  to  it.  Under  date  of  19th 
April,  1849,  Mrs.  Bray  writes  to  Miss  Hennell : 
"  M.  A.  is  happy  now  with  this  Spinoza  to  do : 
she  says  it  is  such  a  rest  for  her  mind." 

The  next  letter  to  Rosehill  pathetically  de- 
scribes how  the  end  came  at  last  to  Mr.  Evans's 
sufferings :  — 
Dear  friends,  Mr.  Bury  told  us  last  night  that  he 
thought  father  would  not  last  till  morning.  I  sat 
by  him  with  my  hand  in  his  till  four  o'clock,  and  he 
then  became  quieter  and  has  had  some  comfortable 
sleep.  He  is  obviously  weaker  this  morning,  and 
has  been  for  the  last  two  or  three  days  so  painfully 
reduced  that  I  dread  to  think  what  his  dear  frame 
may  become  before  life  gives  way.  My  brother 
slept  here  last  night,  and  will  be  here  again  to- 
night. What  shall  I  be  without  my  father  ?  It 
will  seem  as  if  a  part  of  my  moral  nature  were 
gone.  I  write  when  I  can,  but  I  do  not  know 
whether  my  letter  will  do  to  send  this  evening. 

P.  S.  —  Father  is  very,  very  much  weaker  this 
evening. 

Mr.  Evans  died  during  that  night,  31st  May 
1849. 


1849.]  Summary  of  CluipUr  III.  155 


SUMMARY. 

MAT,    18i6,    TO   MAT,    1849. 

Visit  to  Mrs.  Hennell  at  Hackney  —  Letters  to  Mrs.  Bray  — 
Strauss  Translation  published  —  Visit  to  Dover  with  father  — 
Classical  books  wanted  —  Pleasure  in  Strauss's  letter  —  Brays 
suspect  novel-writing  —  Letters  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell  —  Good 
spirits —  Wicksteed's  review  of  the  Strauss  Translation  —  Read- 
ing Foster's  life  —  Visit  to  Griff — Child's  view  of  God  (apropos 
of  Miss  Hennell's  "  Heliados  ")  —  Visit  to  London  —  "  Elijah  "  — 
Likes  London  less  —  The  Sibree  family  and  Mrs.  John  Cash's 
reminiscences  —  Letter  to  Miss  Mary  Sibree  —  Letters  to  Miss 
Sara  Hennell  —  Mental  depression  —  Opinion  of  Charles  Hennell's 
"  Liquiry  "  —  Visit  to  the  Isle  of  Wight  with  father  —  Admiration 
of  Richardson  —  Blanco  White  —  Delight  in  George  Sand's 
"  Lettres  d'un  Voyageur  "  —  Letters  to  Mr.  John  Sibree  —  Opinion 
of  Mrs.  Hannah  More's  letters  —  "  Tancred,"  "  Coningsby,"  and 
"  Sybil  "  —  D'Israeli's  theory  of  races  —  Gentile  nature  kicks 
against  superiority  of  Jews  —  Bows  only  to  the  supremacy  of 
Hebrew  poetry  —  Superiority  of  music  among  tlie  arts  —  Relation 
of  religion  to  art  —  Thorwaldsen's  Christ —  Admiration  of  Roberts 
and  Creswick  —  The  intellect  and  moral  nature  restrain  the  pas- 
sions and  senses  —  Mr.  Dawson  the  Lecturer  —  Satisfaction  in 
French  Revolution  of  '48  —  The  men  of  the  ban-icade  bowing  to 
the  image  of  Christ  —  Difference  between  French  and  English 
working-classes  —  The  need  of  utterance  —  Sympathy  with  Mr. 
Sibree  in  religious  difficulties  —  Longing  for  a  high  attic  in 
Geneva — Letters  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell — Views  on  correspond- 
ence —  Mental  depression  —  Father's  illness  —  Father  better  — 
Goes  with  him  to  St.  Leonards  —  Letter  to  Charles  Bray  —  De- 
pression to  be  overcome  by  thought  and  love — Admiration  of 
Louis  Blanc  —  Recovery  from  depression  —  "Jane  Eyre"  —  Return 
to  Coventry  — Meets  Emerson  —  Strauss's  pamphlet  on  Julian  the 
Apostate  —  Carlyle's  eulogium  on  Emerson  —  Francis  Xewman 
—  Suffering  from  depression  —  Letter  to  Mrs.  Houghton  —  Self- 
condemnation  for  evil  speaking  —  Letters  to  Miss  Hennell  — 
Macaulay's  History  —  On  the  influence  of  George  Sand's  and 
Rousseau's  writing  —  Writes  review  of  the  "  Nemesis  of  Faith  "  for 
the  "  Coventry  Herald "  —  Opinion  of  the  "  Nemesis "  and  the 
"Shadows  of  the  Clouds"  —  Translating  Spinoza's  "Tractatus 
Theologico-Politicus  "  —  Letter  to  Mrs.  Pears — The  consolations 
of  nursing  —  Strain  of  father's  illness  —  Father's  death. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

It  fortunately  happened  that  the  Brays  had 
planned  a  trip  to  the  Continent  for  this  month 
of  June,  1849,  and  Miss  Evans,  being  left  deso- 
late by  the  death  of  her  father,  accepted  their 
invitation  to  join  them.  On  the  11th  June  they 
started,  going  by  way  of  Paris,  Lyons,  Avignon, 
Marseilles,  Nice,  Genoa,  Milan,  Como,  Lago 
Maggiore,  Martigny,  and  Chamounix,  arriving 
at  Geneva  in  the  third  week  of  July.  Here 
Miss  Evans  determined  to  remain  for  some 
months,  the  Brays  returning  home.  Before  they 
went,  however,  they  helped  her  to  settle  herself 
comfortably  en  pension,  and,  as  will  be  seen 
from  the  following  letters,  the  next  eight  months 
were  quietly  and  peacefully  happy.  The  pension 
selected  in  the  first  instance  was  the  Cam- 
pagne  Plongeon,  which  stands  on  a  slight  emi- 
nence a  few  hundred  yards  back  from  the  road 
on  the  route  d'Hermance,  some  ten  minutes' 
walk  from  the  Hotel  Mdtropole.  From  the 
Hotel  National  on  the  Quai  de  Mont  Blanc  one 
catches  a  pleasant  glimpse  of  it  nestling  among 
its  trees.  A  good-sized  gleaming  white  house, 
with  a  centre  and  gables  at  each  side,  — a  flight 
of  steps  leading  from  the  middle  window  to  the 
ground.  A  meadow  in  front,  nicely  planted, 
slopes  charmingly  down  to  the  1)1ug  lake;  and 
behind  the  house,  on  tlie  left-hand  side,  there  is 
an    avenue   of    remarkalily   fine   chestnut-trees, 


[1849.]  Continental  Trip  with  Brays.  157 

whence  there  is  a  magnificent  view  of  the  Jura 
mountains    on  the   opposite   side  of    the   lake. 
The  road  to   Geneva  is  very  beautiful   by  the 
lake-side,  bordered  with  plane-trees.     It  was  a 
delightful,  soothing  change  after  the  long  illness 
and  the  painful  death  of  her  father,  —  after  the 
monotonous  dulness,  too,  of  an  English  provin- 
cial  town  like  Coventry,  where  there  is  little 
beauty  of  any  sort  to  gladden  the  soul.     In  the 
first  months  following  a  great  loss  it  is  good  to 
be  alone  for  a  time,  —  alone  especially  amidst 
beautiful  scenes,  —  and   alone  in   the  sense  of 
being  removed  from  habitual  associations,   but 
yet  constantly  in  the  society  of   new  acquaint- 
ances, who  are  sufficiently  mteresting,  but  not 
too  intimate.     The  Swiss  correspondence  which 
follows  is  chiefly  addressed  to  the  Brays  collec- 
tively, and  describes  the  life  minutely. 
About  my   comfort  here,   I  find  no  disagreeables.  Letter  to  tha 
and  have  every  pliysical  comfort  that  I  cave  about,  juf/.'^im'^ 
The  family  seems  well-ordered  and  happy.     I  have 
made  another  friend  too,  —  an  elderly  English  lady, 
a  Mrs.  Locke,  who  used  to  live  at  Eyde,  —  a  pretty 
old  lady,  with  plenty  of  shrewdness  and  knowledge 
of  the  world.     She  began  to  say  very  kind  things 
to  me  in  rather  a  waspish  tone  yesterday  morning 
at  breakfast.     I  liked  her  better  at  dinner  and  tea, 
and  to-day  we  are  quite  confidential.     I  only  hope 
she  will  stay,  —  she  is  just  the  sort  of  person  I  shall 
like  to  have  to  speak  to,  —  not  at  all  "  congenial," 
but  with  a  character  of  her  own.     The  going  down 
to  tea  bores  me,  and  I  shall  get  out  of  it  as  soon 
as  I  can,  unless  I  can  manage  to  have  the  news- 
papers   to   read.      The   American   lady  embroiders 
slippers,  —  the  mamma  looks  on  and  does  nothing. 


158  Acquaintances  at  [geneva, 

Letter  to  the  The  Marquis  and  his  friends  play  at  whist;  the 
j^y^im^  old  ladies  sew;  and  Madame  says  things  so  true 
that  they  are  insufferable.  She  is  obliged  to  talk 
to  all,  and  cap  their  niaiseries  with  some  suitable 
observation.  She  has  been  very  kind  and  motherly 
to  me.  I  like  her  better  every  time  I  see  her.  I 
have  quiet  and  comfort,  —  what  more  can  I  want 
to  make  me  a  healthy  reasonable  being  once  more  ? 
I  will  never  go  near  a  friend  again  until  I  can  bring 
joy  and  peace  in  my  heart  and  in  my  face,  —  but 
remember  that  friendship  will  be  easy  then. 
Letter  to  the  I  hops  my  imagination  paints  truly  when  it 
Aug^^isw*!  shows  me  all  of  you  seated  with  beaming  faces 
round  the  tea-table  at  Kosehill,  I  shall  be  yearn- 
ing to  know  that  things  as  well  as  people  are 
smiling  on  you ;  but  I  am  sure  you  will  not  let 
me  wait  for  news  of  you  longer  than  is  necessary. 
My  life  here  would  be  delightful  if  we  could  always 
keep  the  same  set  of  people  ;  but  alas  !  I  fear  one 
generation  will  so  and  another  come  so  fast  that  I 
shall  not  care  to  become  acquainted  with  any  of 
them.  My  good  Mrs.  Locke  is  not  going,  that  is 
one  comfort.  She  is  quite  a  mother  to  me,  —  helps 
me  to  buy  my  candles  and  do  all  my  shopping,  — 
takes  care  of  me  at  dinner,  and  quite  rejoices  when 
she  sees  me  enjoy  conversation  or  anything  else. 
The  St.  Germains  are  delightful  people,  —  the  Mar- 
quise really  seems  to  me  the  most  charming  person 
I  ever  saw,  with  kindness  enough  to  make  the  ultra- 
politeness  of  her  manners  quite  genuine.  She  is 
very  good  to  me,  and  says  of  me,  "  Je  m'interesse 
vivement  h,  Mademoiselle."  The  Marquis  is  the 
most  well-bred,  harmless  of  men.  He  talks  very 
little,  —  every  sentence  seems  a  terrible  gestation, 
and  comes  forth  fortissimo  ;   but  he  generally  be- 


1S49.]  Campagiic  Ploiigeon.  159 

stows  one  on  me,  and  seems  especially  to  enjoy  my  Letter  to  the 
poor  tunes  (mind  you,  all  these  trivialities  are  to  Aug^  is^y.' 
satisfy  your  vanity,  not  mine,  —  because  you  are 
beginning    to   be    ashamed    of    having   loved   me). 
The    grey-headed    gentleman    got    quite    fond    of 
talking   philosophy  with  me  before  he  went;   but 
alas !  he  and  a  very  agreeable  young  man  who  was 
with  him  are  gone  to  Aix  les  Bains.     The  young 
German  is  the  Baron  de  H.     I  should  think   he 
is  not  more   than  two  or  three  and  twenty,  very 
good-natured,  but  a  most  determined  enemy  to  all 
gallantry.      I  fancy  he  is  a  Communist;    but   he 
seems  to  have  been  joked  about  his  opinions  by 
Madame  and  the  rest,  until  he  has  determined  to 
keep    a   proud   silence   on    such   matters.     He  has 
begun  to  talk  to  me,  and  I  think  we  should  become 
good  friends ;  but  he,  too,  is  gone  on  an  expedition 
to   Monte    Eosa.     He   is   expecting  his  brother  to 
join  him  here  on  his  return,  but  I  fear  they  will 
not  stay  long.     The  gouvernante  is  a  German,  with 
a  moral  region  that  would  rejoice  Mr.  Bray's  eyes. 
Poor  soul,  she  is  in  a  land  of  strangers,  and  often 
seems   to  feel  her  loneliness.     Her   situation  is  a 
very  difficult  one ;  and  "  die  Angst,"  she  says,  often 
brings  on   a   pain    at    her    heart.     Madame    is    a 
woman  of  some  reading  and  considerable  talent,  — 
very  fond  of  politics,  a  devourer  of  the  journals, 
with  an  opinion  ready  for  you  on  any  subject  what- 
ever.    It  will  be  a  serious  loss  to  her  to  part  with 
the  St.  Germain  family.     I  fear  that  they  will  not 
stay  longer  than   this  month.     I   should  be   quite 
indifferent  to  the  world  that  comes  or  goes  if  once  I 
had  my  boxes  with  all  my  books.     Last  Sunday  I 
went  with  Madame  to  a  small  church  near  Plon- 
geon,  and  I  could  easily  have  fancied  myself  in  an 


160  Genevese  Preachers.  [geneva, 

Letter  to  the  Independent   chapel   at   home.     The   spirit  of    the 

Aug^^i&ia.     sermon  was  not  a  whit  more  elevated  than  that  of 

our  friend  Dr.  Harris,  —  the  text,  "  What  shall  I  do 

to  be  saved  ?  "  —  the  answer  of  Jesus  being  blinked 

as  usual. 

To-day  I  have  been  to  hear  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated  preachers,  M.    Meunier.     His    sermon    was 
really  eloquent,  —  all  written  down,  but  delivered 
with  so  much  energy  and  feeling  that  you  never 
thou"ht  of  the  book.     It  is  curious  to  notice  how 
patriotism  —  cUvovxment  a  la  patrie  —  is  put  in  the 
sermons  as  the  first  of  virtues,  even  before  devotion 
to  the  Church.     We  never  hear  of  it  in  England 
after  we  leave  school.     The  good  Marquis  goes  with 
his    family   and   servants,   all   nicely  drest,  to  the 
Catholic  Church.     They  are  a  most  orderly  set  of 
people :    there    is    nothing  but  their  language  and 
their  geniality  and  politeness  to  distinguish  them 
from    one    of    the  best  of  our  English  aristocratic 
families.     I  am  perfectly  comfortable  :  every  one  is 
kind    to   me   and  seems  to  like   me.      Your  kind 
hearts  will  rejoice  at  this,  I  know.     Only  remember 
that  I  am  just  as  much  interested  in  all  that  hap- 
pens to  you  at  Eosehill  as  you  are  in  what  happens 
to  me  at  Plongeon.     Pray  that  the  motto  of  Geneva 
may  become  mine,  —  "  Post  tenehras  lux." 
Letter  to  the      ^  havc  uo  head  for  writing   to-day,  for   I   have 
AMg''is49.''    ^^^^"^  keeping  my  bed  for  the  last  three  days  ;  but  I 
must  remember  that  writing  to  you  is  like  ringing  a 
bell  hung  in  the  planet  Jupiter,  —  it  is  so  weary  a 
while  before  one's  letters  reach.     I  have  been  posi- 
tively sickening  for  want  of  my  boxes,  and  anxiety 
to  hear  of  my  relations.     Your  kind  letter  of  this 
morning   has  quieted    the  latter   a  little ;   but    my 
boxes,  alas  !  have  not  appeared.     Do  not  be  alarmed 


1849.]  Life  at  Campagne  Plongeon.  161 

about  my  health.  1  have  only  had  a  terrible  head-  Letter  tothe 
ache,  —  prolonged,  in  fact,  by  the  assiduities  of  the  AugrisHg. 
good  people  here ;  for  the  tirst  day  I  lay  in  bed  I 
had  the  whole  female  world  of  Plongeon  in  my  bed- 
room, and  talked  so  incessantly  that  I  was  unable  to 
sleep  after  it :  the  consequence,  as  you  may  imagine, 
was  that  the  next  day  I  was  very  much  worse ;  but 
I  am  getting  better,  and  indeed  it  was  worth  while 
to  be  ill  to  have  so  many  kind  attentions.  There  is 
a  fresh  German  family  from  Frankfurt  here  just 
now,  —  Madame  Cornelius  and  her  children.  She  is 
the  daughter  of  the  richest  banker  in  Frankfurt, 
and,  what  is  better,  full  of  heart  and  mind,  with  a 
face  that  tells  you  so  before  she  opens  her  lips.  She 
has  more  reading  than  the  Marquise,  being  German 
and  Protestant ;  and  it  is  a  real  refreshment  to  talk 
with  her  for  half  an  hour.  The  dear  Marquise  is 
a  truly  devout  Catholic.  It  is  beautiful  to  hear  her 
speak  of  the  comfort  she  has  in  the  confessional,  — 
for  our  tetes-a-tete  have  lately  turned  on  religious 
matters.  She  says  I  am  in  a  "  mauvaise  voie  sous 
le  rapport  de  la  religion.  Peut-etre  vous  vous 
marierez,  et  le  mariage,  chfere  aniie,  sans  la  foi 
religieuse !  .  .  .  "  She  says  I  have  isolated  myself 
by  my  studies,  —  that  I  am  too  cold  and  have  too 
little  confidence  in  the  feelings  of  others  towards 
me,  — that  I  do  not  believe  how  deep  an  interest  she 
has  conceived  in  my  lot.  She  says  Signer  Goldrini 
(the  young  Italian  who  was  here  for  a  week)  told 
her,  when  he  had  been  talking  to  me  one  evening, 
"  Vous  aimerez  cette  demoiselle,  j'eii  suis  sur "  — 
and  she  has  found  his  prediction  true.  They  are 
leaving  for  their  own  country  on  Wednesday.  She 
hopes  I  shall  go  to  Italy  and  see  her ;  and  when  I 
tell  her  that  I  have  no  faith  that  she  will  remember 

VOL.    I, 11. 


1G2  Life  at  Campagne  Plongeon.       [geneva, 

Letter  to  the  me  long  enough  for  me  to  venture  on  pavinsf  her  a 

Brays,  20th         ••,•<>  -T     ^         i  -,  -.-      ,  i.     J       b 

Aug.  1849.  visit  it  ever  1  should  go  to  Italy  again,  she  shakes 
her  head  at  my  incredulity.  She  was  born  at 
Genoa.  Her  father  was  three  years  Sardinian 
Minister  at  Constantinople  before  she  was  married, 

and  she  speaks  with  enthusiasm  of  her  life  there, 

"  C'est  la  le  pays  de  la  vraie  podsie  oii  Ton  sent  ce 
que  c'est  que  de  vivre  par  le  coeur."  M.  de  H.  is 
returned  from  Monte  Eosa.  He  would  be  a  nice 
person  if  he  had  another  soul  added  to  the  one  he 
has  by  nature,  —  the  soul  that  comes  by  sorrow  and 
love.  I  stole  his  book  while  he  was  gone,  —  the 
first  volume  of  Louis  Blanc's  "History  of  Ten 
Years."  It  contains  a  very  interesting  account  of 
the  three  days  of  July,  1830.  His  brother  is  com- 
ing to  join  him,  so  I  hope  he  will  not  go  at  present. 
Tell  Miss  Sibree  my  address,  and  beg  her  to  write 
to  me  all  about  herself,  and  to  write  on  thin 
paper.  I  hardly  know  yet  whether  I  shall  like 
this  place  well  enough  to  stay  here  through  the 
winter.  I  have  been  under  the  disadvantage  of 
wanting  all  on  which  I  chiefly  depend,  —  my 
books,  &c.  Wlien  I  have  been  here  another 
month,  I  shall  be  better  able  to  judge.  I  hope  you 
managed  to  get  in  the  black  velvet  dress.  The 
people  dress,  and  think  about  dressing,  here  more 
even  than  in  England.  You  would  not  know  me 
if  you  saw  me.  The  Marquise  took  on  her  the 
office  of  fcmmc  de  chambre  and  drest  my  hair  one 
day.  She  has  abolished  all  my  curls,  and  made 
two  things  stick  out  on  each  side  of  my  head  like 
those  on  the  head  of  the  Sphinx.  All  the  world 
says  I  look  infinitely  better ;  so  I  comply,  though 
to  myself  I  seem  uglier  '  than  ever,  —  if  possible. 
I  am  fidgeted  to  death  about  my  boxes,  and  that 


i849.]  Life,  at  Campagnc  Plongeon.  163 

tiresome   man  not   to  acknowledge   the   receipt   of  Letter  to  the 

them.       I    make    no    apology    for   wriiing   all   my  Aug^/ma. 

peevishness  and  follies,  because  I  want  you  to  do 

the  same,  —  to  let  me  know  everything  about  you, 

to  the   aching  of  your  fingers,  —  and  you   tell  me 

very   little.      My   boxes,    my  boxes !     I   dream   of 

them   night   and   day.      Dear   Mr.  Hennell !     Give 

him  my  heartiest  affectionate  remembrances.     Tell 

him  I  find   no   one  here    so  spirited   as   he:  there 

are  no  better  jokes  going  than  I  can  make  myself. 

Mrs.  Hennell    and    Mrs.  C.  Hennell   too,    all   are 

remembered,  — if  even  I  have    only  seen  them  in 

England. 

Mme.  de  Ludwigsdorff,  the  wife  of  an  Austrian  Letter  to  the 
baron,  has  been  here  for  two  days,  and  is  coming  Aug.  im 
again.  She  is  handsome,  spirited,  and  clever, — 
pure  English  by  birth,  but  quite  foreign  in  man- 
ners and  appearance.  She,  and  all  the  world 
besides,  are  going  to  winter  in  Italy.  Nothing 
annoys  me  now,  —  I  feel  perfectly  at  home,  and 
shall  really  be  comfortable  when  I  have  all  my 
little  matters  about  me.  This  place  looks  more 
lovely  to  me  every  day,  —  the  lake,  the  town,  the 
campagnes  with  their  stately  trees  and  pretty 
houses,  the  glorious  mountains  in  the  distance ; 
one  can  hardly  believe  one's  self  on  earth :  one 
might  live  here  and  fore;et  that  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  want  or  labour  or  sorrow.  The  perpetual 
presence  of  all  this  beauty  has  somewhat  the  effect 
of  mesmerism  or  chloroform.  I  feel  sometimes  as 
if  I  were  sinking  into  an  agreeable  state  of  numb- 
ness on  the  verge  of  unconsciousness,  and  seem  to 
want  well  pinching  to  rouse  me.  The  other  day 
(Sunday)  there  was  a //iJe  held  on  the  lake,  —  the 
fete  of   Navigation.     I   went  out  with  some   other 


164  Chameleov^like  Nature.  [geneva, 

Letter  tothe  ladiGS  in  M.  de  H.'s  boat  at  sunset,  and  had  the 
Augri849.  richest  draught  of  beauty.  All  tlie  boats  of  Geneva 
turned  out  in  their  best  attire.  When  the  moon 
and  stars  came  out,  there  were  beautiful  fireworks 
sent  up  from  the  boats.  The  mingling  of  the  sil- 
ver and  the  golden  rays  on  the  rippled  lake,  the 
bright  colours  of  the  boats,  the  music,  the  splendid 
fireworks,  and  the  pale  moon  looking  at  it  all  with 
a  sort  of  grave  surprise,  made  up  a  scene  of  perfect 
enchantment,  —  and  our  dear  old  Mont  Blanc  was 
there  in  his  white  ermine  robe.  I  rowed  all  the 
time,  and  hence  comes  my  palsy.  I  can  perfectly 
fancy  dear  Mrs.  Pears  in  her  Leamington  house. 
How  beautiful  all  that  Foleshill  life  looks  now, 
like  the  distant  Jura  in  the  morning !  She  was 
such  a  sweet,  dear,  good  friend  to  me.  My  walks 
with  her,  my  little  visits  to  them  in  the  evening,  — 
all  is  remembered.  I  am  glad  you  have  seen 
Fanny  again;  any  attention  you  show  her  is  a 
real  kindness  to  me,  and  I  assure  you  she  is  worth 
it.  You  know,  or  you  do  not  know,  that  my 
nature  is  so  chameleon-like,  I  shall  lose  all  my 
identity  unless  you  keep  nourishing  the  old  self 
with  letters,  —  so,  pray,  write  as  much  and  as 
often  as  you  can.  It  jumps  admirably  with  my 
humour  to  live  in  two  worlds  at  once  in  this  way. 
I  possess  my  dearest  friends  and  my  old  environ- 
ment in  my  thoughts,  —  and  another  world  of 
novelty  and  beauty  in  which  I  am  actually  mov- 
ing, —  and  my  contrariety  of  disposition  always 
makes  the  world  thnt  lives  in  my  thoughts  the 
dearer  of  the  two,  —  the  one  in  which  I  more  truly 
dwell.  So,  after  all,  I  enjoy  my  friends  most  when 
I  am  away  from  them.  I  shall  not  say  so,  though, 
if  I  should  live  to  rejoin  you  six  or  seven  months 


1849.]         Anxiety  about  Friends  at  Home.  165 

hence.  Keep  me  for  seven  ^  years  longer  and  you 
will  find  out  the  use  of  me,  like  all  other  pieces  of 
trumpery. 

Have  I  confided  too  much  in  your  generosity  in  Letter  to 
supposing  that  you  would  write  to  me  first?  or  is  tJ,'i%u°"^'*' 
there  some  other  reason  for  your  silence  ?  I  suffer  ^'"p*"  ^^^' 
greatly  from  it,  —  not  entirely  from  selfish  reasons, 
but  in  great  part  because  I  am  really  anxious  to 
know  all  about  you,  your  state  of  health  and  spirits 
—  the  aspect  of  things  within  and  without  you. 
Did  Mr.  Bray  convey  to  you  my  earnest  request 
that  you  would  write  to  me  ?  You  know  of  my 
whereabouts  and  circumstances  from  my  good  friends 
at  Kosehill,  so  that  I  have  little  to  tell  you,  —  at 
least  I  have  not  spirit  to  write  of  myself  until  I 
have  heard  from  you,  and  have  an  assurance  from 
yourself  that  you  yet  care  about  me.  Sara  (Mrs. 
Isaac  Evans)  has  sent  me  word  of  the  sad,  sad  loss 
that  has  befallen  poor  Chrissey  and  Edward,  —  a 
loss  in  which  I  feel  that  I  have  a  share ;  for  that 
angelic  little  being  had  great  interest  for  me,  —  she 
promised  to  pay  so  well  for  any  care  spent  on  her. 
I  can  imagine  poor  Edward's  almost  frantic  grief, 
and  I  dread  the  effect  on  Chrissey's  weak  frame  of 
her  more  silent  suffering.  Anything  you  can  tell  me 
about  them  will  be  read  very  eagerly.  I  begin  to 
feel  the  full  value  of  a  letter,  —  so  much  so,  that  if 
ever  I  am  convinced  that  any  one  has  the  least 
anxiety  to  hear  from  me,  I  shall  always  reckon  it 
amongst  the  first  duties  to  sit  down  without  delay, 
giving  no  ear  to  the  suggestions  of  my  idleness  and 
aversion  to  letter-writing.     Indeed  I  am  beginning 

^  It  ma}^  be  noted  as  a  curious  verification  of  this  presentiment 
that  "  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  "  were  published  in  1856,  —  just  seven 
years  later. 


166  Effect  of  Change  of  Life.  [geneva. 

Letter  to  to  find  it  really  pleasant  to  write  to  my  friends,  now 
ton%fh  "^'^'  that  I  am  so  far  away  from  them ;  and  I  could  soon 
Sept.  1849.  ijij  ^  sheet  to  you  if  your  silence  did  not  weigh  too 
heavily  on  my  heart.  My  health  is  by  no  means 
good  yet,  —  seldom  good  enough  not  to  be  a  sort  of 
drag  on  my  mind ;  so  you  must  make  full  allow- 
ance for  too  much  egotism  and  susceptibility  in  me. 
It  seems  to  be  three  years  instead  of  three  months 
since  I  was  in  England  and  amongst  you,  and  I 
imagine  that  all  sorts  of  revolutions  must  have  taken 
place  in  the  interim ;  whereas  to  you,  I  daresay,  re- 
maining in  your  old  home  and  among  your  every- 
day duties,  the  time  has  slipped  away  so  rapidly 
that  you  are  unable  to  understand  my  anxiety  to 
hear  from  you.  I  think  the  climate  here  is  not 
particularly  healthy,  —  I  suppose  from  the  vicinity 
of  the  lake,  which,  however,  becomes  so  dear  to  me 
that  one  cannot  bear  to  hear  it  accused.  Good-bye, 
dear  Fanny ;  a  thousand  blessings  to  you  whether 
you  write  to  me  or  not,  and  much  gratitude  if  you 
do. 
Letter  to  the  My  boxcs  arrived  last  Friday.  The  expense  was 
SeTis49.^  ^i"-  150,  — perfectly  horrible!  Clearly  I  must  give 
myself  for  food  to  the  fowls  of  the  air  or  the  fishes 
of  the  lake.  It  is  a  consolation  to  a  mind  imbued 
with  a  lofty  philosophy,  that  when  one  can  get 
nothing  to  eat,  one  can  still  be  eaten,  —  the  evil  is 
only  apparent.  It  is  quite  settled  that  I  cannot 
stay  at  Plongeon  ;  I  must  move  into  town.  But, 
alas !  I  must  pay  fr.  200  per  month.  If  I  were 
there,  I  should  see  more  conversable  people  than 
here.  Do  you  think  any  one  would  buy  my 
"  Encyclopsedia  Britannica "  at  half-price,  and  my 
globes  ?  If  so,  I  should  not  be  afraid  of  exceeding 
my  means,  and  I  should  have  a  little  money  to  pay 


1849.]         Letters  from  Brother  and  Sisters.  167 

for    mv    piano,  and   for  some    lessons    of    different  Letter  tothe 

■■  T  ,1  mi         T-.  1  T        •      Brays,  13th 

kinds  that  I  want  to  take,  ine  Jincyclopaiaia  is  sept.  i84a. 
the  last  edition,  and  cost  £42,  and  the  globes 
£8  10s.  1  shall  never  have  anywhere  to  put  them, 
so  it  is  folly  to  keep  them  if  any  one  will  buy 
them.  No  one  else  has  written  to  me,  though  I 
have  written  to  almost  all.  I  would  rather  have 
it  so  than  feel  that  the  debt  was  on  my  side.  When 
will  you  come  to  me  for  help,  that  I  may  be  able  to 
hate  you  a  little  less  ?  I  shall  leave  here  as  soon  as 
I  am  able  to  come  to  a  decision,  as  I  am  anxious 
to  feel  settled,  and  the  weather  is  becoming  cold. 
This  house  is  like  a  bird-cage  set  down  in  a  garden. 
Do  not  count  this  among  my  letters.  I  am  good 
for  nothing  to-day,  and  can  write  nothing  well  but 
bitterness,  so  that  I  will  not  trust  myself  to  say 
another  word.  The  Baronne  de  Ludwigsdorff  seems 
to  have  begun  to  like  me  very  much,  and  is  really 
kind  ;  so  you  see  heaven  sends  kind  souls,  though 
they  are  by  no  means  kindred  ones.  Poor  Mrs. 
Locke  is  to  write  to  me,  —  has  given  me  a  little  ring, 
— says,  "Take  care  of  yourself,  my  child,  —  have  some 
tea  of  your  own,  —  you  '11  be  quite  another  person  if 
you  get  some  introductions  to  clever  people,  —  you  11 
get  on  well  among  a  certain  set,  —  that 's  true  ; "  it 
is  her  way  to  say  "  that 's  true  "  after  all  her  affir- 
mations. She  says,  "You  won't  find  any  kindred 
spirits  at  Plongeon,  my  dear." 

I  am  feeliniT  particularly  happy  because  I  have  Letter  to  the 

,       -,  -,   .      1    T  I.  1      ^1  J        •    i.  Brays,  '20th 

had  very  kind  letters  from  my  brother  and  sisters,  sept.  mg. 
I  am  ashamed  to  fill  sheets  about  myself,  but  I 
imagined  that  this  was  precisely  what  you  wished. 
Pray  correct  my  mistake,  if  it  be  one,  and  then  I 
will  look  over  the  Calvin  MSS.  and  give  you  some 
information  of  really  general  interest,  suited  to  our 


168  Madame  Ludwigsdorff.  [geneva, 

Letter  to  the  mutual  capacities-     Mme.  Ludwigsdorff  is  so  good 

Brays,  20th      ,  ,  .  "  ° 

Sept.  1849.  to  me,  —  a  charming  creature,  —  so  anxious  to  see  me 
comfortably  settled,  —  x^etting  me  in  all  sorts  of  ways. 
She  sends  me  tea  when  I  wake  in  the  mornius, 
orange-flower  water  when  I  go  to  bed,  —  grapes,  — 
and  her  maid  to  wait  on  me.  She  says  if  I  like 
she  will  spend  the  winter  after  this  at  Paris  with 
me,  and  introduce  me  to  her  friends  there  ;  but  she 
does  not  mean  to  attach  herself  to  me,  because  I 
shall  never  like  her  long.  I  shall  be  tired  of  her 
when  I  have  sifted  her,  &c.  She  says  I  have  more 
intellect  than  morale^  and  other  things  more  true 
than  agreeable  ;  however,  she  is  "  greatly  interested  " 
in  me,  —  has  told  me  her  troubles  and  her  feelings, 
she  says,  in  spite  of  herself ;  for  she  has  never  been 
able  before  in  her  life  to  say  so  much  even  to  her 
old  friends.  It  is  a  mystery  she  cannot  unravel. 
She  is  a  person  of  high  culture,  according  to  the 
ordinary  notions  of  what  feminine  culture  should 
be.  She  speaks  French  and  German  perfectly, 
plays  well,  and  has  the  most  perfect  polish  of  man- 
ner, —  the  most  thorough  refinement  both  socially 
and  morally.  She  is  tall  and  handsome,  —  a  striking- 
looking  person,  but  with  a  sweet  feminine  expression 
when  she  is  with  those  she  likes,  —  dresses  exqui- 
sitely,—  in  fine,  is  all  that  I  am  not.  I  shall  tire  you 
with  all  this,  but  I  want  you  to  know  what  good 
creatures  there  are  here  as  elsewhere.  Miss  F.  tells 
me  that  the  first  day  she  sat  by  my  side  at  dinner, 
she  looked  at  me,  and  thought  to  herself,  "  That  is  a 
grave  lady  ;  I  do  not  think  T  shall  like  her  much  ;  " 
but  as  soon  as  I  spoke  to  her,  and  she  looked  into 
my  eyes,  she  felt  she  could  love  me.  Then  she  lent 
me  a  book  written  by  her  cousin  —  a  religious  novel 
• —  in  wdiich  there  is  a  fearful  infidel  who  will  not 


1849.]  Ortliodox  Friends.  169 

believe,  and  hates  all  who  do,  &c.,  &c.  Then  she  Letter  tothe 
invited  me  to  walk  with  her,  and  came  to  talk  in  my  tlllS^ 
room ;  then  invited  me  to  go  to  the  Oratoire  with 
them,  till  I  began  to  be  uncomfortable  under  the 
idea  that  they  fancied  I  was  evangelical,  and  that  I 
was  gaining  their  affection  under  false  pretences  ;  so 
I  told  Miss  F.  that  I  was  going  to  sacrifice  her  good 
opinion,  and  confess  my  heresies.  I  quite  expected 
from  their  manner  and  character  that  they  would 
forsake  me  in  horror,  —  but  they  are  as  kind  as  ever. 
They  never  go  into  the  salon  in  the  evening,  and  I 
have  almost  forsaken  it,  spending  the  evening  fre- 
quently in  Mme.  de  Ludwigsdorffs  room,  where  we 
have  some  deliohtful  tea.  The  tea  of  the  house 
here  is  execrable  ;  or  rather,  as  Mrs.  A.  says,  "  How 
glad  we  ought  to  be  that  it  lias  no  taste  at  all,  —  it 
might  have  a  very  bad  one  !  "  I  like  the  A's. ;  they 
are  very  good-natured.  Mrs.  A.,  a  very  ugly  but 
ladylike  little  woman,  who  is  under  an  infatuation 
"  as  it  regards  "  her  caps,  —  always  wearing  the  bright- 
est rose-colour  or  intensest  blue,  —  with  a  complexion 
not  unlike  a  dirty  primrose  glove.  The  rest  of  the 
people  are  nothing  to  me,  except,  indeed,  dear  old 
Mile.  Faizan,  who  comes  into  my  room  when  I  am 
ill  with  "  Qu'est  ce  que  vous  avez,  ma  bonne  ? "  in 
the  tone  of  the  kindest  old  aunt,  and  thinks  that  I 
am  the  most  amiable  douce  creature,  which  will 
give  you  a  better  opinion  of  her  charity  than  her 
penetration. 

Dear  creatures !  no  one  is  so  good  as  you  yet.  I 
have  not  yet  found  any  one  who  can  bear  com- 
parison with  you  ;  not  in  kindness  to  me,  —  ca  va 
sans  dire, —  but  in  solidity  of  mind  and  in  expan- 
sion of  feeling.  This  is  a  very  coarse  thing  to  say, 
but  it  came  to  the  end  of  my  pen,  and  litera  scripta 


170  Old  Friends.  [geneva, 

Letter  to  the  mauet, — at  least  when  it  comes  at  the  end  of  the 
seprmg!"  second  page.  I  shall  certainly  stay  at  Geneva  this 
winter,  and  shall  return  to  England  as  early  as  the 
spring  weather  will  permit,  always  supposing  that 
nothing  occurs  to  alter  my  plans.  I  am  still  thin ; 
so  how  much  will  be  left  of  me  next  April  I  am 
afraid  to  imagine.  I  shall  be  length  without 
breadth.  Cara's  assurance  that  you  are  well  and 
comfortable  is  worth  a  luncheon  to  me,  which  is 
just  the  thing  I  am  generally  most  in  want  of,  for 
we  dine  at  six  now.  I  love  to  imagine  you  in  your 
home ;  and  everything  seems  easy  to  me  when  I 
am  not  disturbed  about  the  health  or  well-being  of 
my  loved  ones.  It  is  really  so ;  I  do  not  say  it  out 
of  any  sort  of  affectation,  benevolent  or  otherwise. 
I  am  without  carefulness,  alas !  in  more  senses  than 
one.  Thank  Sara  very  heartily  for  her  letter.  I 
do  not  write  a  special  sheet  for  her  to-day,  because 
I  have  to  write  to  two  or  three  other  people,  but 
she  must  not  the  less  believe  how  I  valued  a  little 
private  morsel  from  her ;  and  also  that  I  would 
always  rather  she  wrote  "from  herself"  than  "to 
me, "  —  that  is  my  theory  of  letter- writing.  Your 
letters  are  as  welcome  as  Elijah's  ravens,  —  I 
thought  of  saying  the  dinner-bell,  only  that  would 
be  too  gross  !  I  get  impatient  at  the  end  of  the  ten 
days  which  it  takes  for  our  letters  to  go  to  and  fro  ; 
and  I  have  not  the  least  faith  in  the  necessity  for 
keeping  the  sheet  three  or  four  days  before  Mr. 
Bray  can  find  time  to  write  his  meagre  bit.  If  you 
see  the  Miss  Franklins,  give  my  love  to  them  ;  my 
remembrances  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wliittem ;  love  to 
Miss  Sibree  always.  Hearty  love  to  Clapton  ^  and 
Woodford  ;  ^  and  a  very  diffusive  benevolence  to  the 

1  Mrs.  Ilennoll.  2  ]\rr  j^,„]  ^[rs.  Charles  ITcnnell. 


1849.]  Need  of  Encouragement.  171 

world  in  general,  without  any  particular  attachment 
to  A.  or  B.  I  am  trying  to  please  Mr.  Bray.  Good- 
bye, dear  souls.     Dominus  vobiscum. 

I  am  anxious  for  you  to  know  my  new  address.  Letter  to 
as  I  shall  leave  here  on  Tuesday.     I  think  I  have  ThufJday,' 
at  last  found  the  very  thing.     I  shall  be  the  only  tm  *"*■ 
lodger.      The    airpartement   is    assez  joli,    with    an 
alcove,  so  that  it  looks  like  a  sitting-room  in  the 
daytime,  —  the  people,  an   artist  of  great  respect- 
ability, and  his  wife,  a  most  kind-looking  ladylike 
person,  with  two  boys,  who  have  the  air  of  being 
well  educated.     They  seem  very  anxious  to  have 
me,  and  are  ready  to  do  anything  to  accommodate 
me.     I  shall  live  with  them,  —  that  is,  dine  with 
them ;  breakfast  in  my  own  room.     The  terms  are 
fr.  150  per  month,  Light  included.     M.  and  Mme. 
D'Albert   are   middle-aged,  —  musical,  and,    I    am 
told,  have  heaucoup  d'  esjjrit.     I  hope  this  will  not 
exceed  my  means  for  four  or  five  months.     There 
is  a  nice  large  salon  and  a  good  salle  a  inanger.     I 
am  told  that  their  society  is  very  good.     Mme.  de 
Ludwigsdorff  was  about  going  there  a  year  ago,  and 
it  was  she  who  recommended  it  to  me. 

I  hope  Sara's  fears  are  supererogatory,  —  a  proof 
of  a  too  nervous  solicitude  about  me,  for  which  I 
am  grateful,  though  it  does  me  no  good  to  hear  of 
it.  I  want  encouraging  rather  than  warning  and 
checking.  I  believe  1  am  so  constituted  that  I  shall 
never  be  cured  of  my  faults  except  by  God's  disci- 
pline. If  human  beings  would  but  believe  it,  they 
do  me  most  good  by  saying  to  me  the  kindest 
things  truth  will  permit ;  and  really  I  cannot  hope 
those  will  be  superlatively  kind.  The  reason  I 
wished  to  raise  a  little  extra  money  is  that  I 
wanted  to  have  some  lessons  and  other  means   of 


172  Mademoiselle  Faizan.  [geneva, 

Letter  to       cultuie,  —  not  for  my  daily  bread,  for  which  I  hope 
Thufs^dJy,'     I   shall   have   enough ;    but   since   you   think   my 
ms."^'        scheme    impracticable,   we    will    dismiss   it.      Au 
reste,  be  in  no  anxiety  about  me.     Nothing  is  go- 
ing wrons  that  I  know  of.     I  am  not  an  absolute 
fool  and  weakling.     When  I  am  fairly  settled  in 
my  new  home,  I  will  write  again.     My  address  will 
be  —  M.  D'Albert,  Rue  des  Chanoines,  No.  107. 
Letter  to  The  blesscd  compensation  there  is  in  all  things 

^n%«i°"^'''  made  your  letter  doubly  precious  for  having  been 
Oct.  18-19.  waited  for,  and  it  would  have  inspired  me  to  write 
to  you  again  much  sooner,  but  that  I  have  been  in 
uncertainty  about  settling  myself  for  the  winter, 
and  I  wished  to  send  you  my  future  address.  I  am 
to  move  to  my  new  home  on  Tuesday  the  9tli.  I 
shall  not  at  all  regret  leaving  here  ;  the  season  is 
beginning  to  be  rather  sombre,  though  the  glorious 
chestnuts  here  are  still  worth  looking  at  half  the 
day.  You  have  heard  of  some  of  the  people  whom 
I  have  described  in  my  letters  to  Rosehill.  The 
dear  little  old  maid.  Mile.  Faizan,  is  quite  a  good 
friend  to  me,  —  extremely  prosy,  and  full  of  tiny 
details  ;  but  really  people  of  that  calibre  are  a  com- 
fort to  one  occasionally,  when  one  has  not  strength 
enough  for  more  stimulating  things.  She  is  a 
sample  of  those  happy  souls  who  ask  for  nothing 
but  the  work  of  the  hour,  however  trivial,  —  who 
are  contented  to  live  without  knowing  whether 
they  effect  anything,  but  who  do  really  effect  much 
good,  simply  by  their  calm  and  even  maintien.  I 
laugh  to  hear  her  spy  in  a  tone  of  remonstrance,  — 
"  Mme.  de  Ludwigsdorff  dit  qu'elle  s'ennuie  quand 
les  soirees  sont  longues :  moi,  je  ne  conpois  pas 
comment  on  pent  s'ennuyer  quand  on  a  de  I'ou- 
vrage  ou  des  Jeux  ou  de  la  conversation."    When 


1849.]  Tlie  B'Alherts'  Household.  173 

people  who  are  dressing  elegantly  and  driving  Letter  to 
about  to  make  calls  every  day  of  their  life  have  ton^th"^ 
been  telling  me  of  their  troubles,  —  their  utter  ^^^'  ^^^ 
hopelessness  of  ever  finding  a  vein  worth  working 
in  their  future  life,  —  my  thoughts  have  turned 
towards  many  whose  sufferings  are  of  a  more 
tangible  character,  and  I  have  really  felt  all  the 
old  commonplaces  about  the  equality  of  human 
destinies,  always  excepting  those  spiritual  differ- 
ences which  are  apart  not  only  from  poverty  and 
riches  but  from  individual  affections.  Dear  Chris- 
sey  has  found  time  and  strength  to  write  to  me,  and 
very  precious  her  letter  was,  though  I  wept  over  it. 
"  Deep  abiding  grief  must  be  mine,"  she  says,  and  I 
know  v/ell  it  must  be.  The  mystery  of  trial !  It 
falls  with  such  avalanche  weight  on  the  head  of  the 
meek  and  patient.  I  wish  I  could  do  something  of 
more  avail  for  my  friends  than  love  them  and  long 
for  their  happiness. 

M.  and  Mme.  D 'Albert  are  really  clever  people.  Letter  to  the 
—  people  worth  sitting  up  an  hour  longer  to  talk  oct  ik9. 
to.  This  does  not  hinder  Madame  from  being  an 
excellent  manager,  —  dressing  scrupulously,  and 
keeping  her  servants  in  order.  She  has  hung  my 
room  with  pictures,  one  of  which  is  the  most 
beautiful  group  of  flowers  conceivable  thrown  on  an 
open  Bible,  —  painted  by  herself.  I  have  a  piano 
which  I  hire.  There  is  also  one  in  the  salon. 
M.  D 'Albert  plays  and  sings,  and  in  the  winter  he 
tells  me  they  have  parties  to  sing  masses  and  do 
other  delightful  things.  In  fact,  I  think  I  am 
just  in  the  right  place.  I  breakfast  in  my  own 
room  at  half-past  eight,  lunch  at  half-past  twelve, 
and  dine  at  four  or  a  little  after,  and  take  tea  at 
eight.     From  the  tea-table  I  have  gone  into  the 


174  M.  D' Albert.  [geneva, 

Letter  to  the  saloTi  and  cliatted  until  bedtime.  It  would  really 
Octfi»49.  have  been  a  pity  to  have  stayed  at  Plongeon,  out 
of  reach  of  everything,  and  with  people  so  little 
worth  talking  to.  I  have  not  found  out  the 
desagremens  here  yet.  It  is  raining  horribly,  but 
this  just  saves  me  from  the  regret  I  should  have 
felt  at  having  quitted  the  chestnuts  of  Plongeon. 
That  campagne  looked  splendid  in  its  autumn 
dress. 

George  Eliot  retained  so  warm  an  admiration 
and  love  for  M.  D 'Albert  to  the  end  of  her  life, 
that  it  seems  fitting  here  to  mention  that  he 
still  lives,  carrying  well  the  weight  of  eighty 
winters.  He  is  conservateur  of  the  Ath^nde,  — 
a  permanent  exhibition  of  works  of  art  in 
Geneva  ;  and  he  published  only  last  year  (1883) 
a  French  translation  of  the  "  Scenes  of  Clerical 
Life, "  having  already  previously  published 
translations  of  "  Adam  Bede, "  "  The  Mill  on  the 
Floss,  "  "  Silas  Marner, "  and  "  Ptomola.  "  The 
description  of  his  personal  appearance,  in  the 
following  letter,  still  holds  good,  save  that  the 
grey  hair  has  become  quite  white.  He  lost 
his  wife  in  1880 ;  and  it  will  be  seen  from  sub- 
sequent letters  that  George  Eliot  kept  up  a 
faithful  attachment  to  her  to  the  end.  They 
were  both  friends  after  her  own  heart.  The 
old  apartment  is  now  No.  18  instead  of  No. 
107  Eue  des  Chanoines,  and  is  occupied  as  the 
printing-office  of  the  "  Journal  de  Genfeve.  "  But 
half  of  the  rooms  remain  just  as  they  were 
five-and-thirty  years  ago  :  the  salon,  wainscoted 
in  imitation  light-oak  panels,  with  a  white 
China  stove,  and  her  bedroom  opening  off  it,  — 
as  she  had  often  described  it  to  me ;  and  M. 


1849.]  3f.  D' Albert.  175 

D 'Albert  has  still  in  his  possession  the  paint- 
ing of  the  bunch  of  beautiful  flowers  thrown  on 
an  open   Bible   mentioned  in    the  last   letter. 
He  told  me  that  when  Miss  Evans  first  came 
to  look  at  the  house,  she  was  so  horrified  with 
the  forbidding  aspect   of  the  stairs,   that  she 
declared  she  would  not  go  up  above    the  first 
floor ;  but  when  she  got  inside  the  door  she  was 
reconciled  to  her  new  quarters.      Calvin's  house 
is  close  to  the  Eue  des  Chanoines,  and  she  was 
much  interested  in  it.     It  will  be  seen  that  she 
did  some  work  in  physics  under  Professor  de  la 
Eive ;  but  she  principally  rested  and   enjoyed 
herself   during   the    stay   at    Geneva.      It  was 
exactly  the  kind  of  life  she  was  in  need  of  at 
the  time,  and  the  letters  show  how  much  she 
appreciated  it. 
I  languished  for  your  letter  before  it  came,   and  Letter  to  the 
read  it  three  times  running,  —  judge   whether  I  octrms.*'' 
care  less  for  you  than  of  old.      It  is  the  best  of 
blessings  to  know  that  you  are  well  and  cheerful ; 
and  when  I  think  of  all  that  might  happen  in  a 
fortnight   to   make   you    otherwise,    especially    in 
these  days   of  cholera  and  crises,  I   cannot  help 
being  anxious  until  I  get  a  fresh  assurance  that  at 
least  five  days  ago  all  was  well.     Before  I  say  any- 
thing about  myself,  I  must  contradict  your  sus- 
picion that  I  paint  things  too    agreeably  for   the 
sake  of   giving   you  pleasure.      I  assure  you  my 
letters  are   subjectively  true,  —  the   falsehood,  if 
there  be  any,  is  in  my  manner  of  seeing  things. 
But  I  will  give  you  some  verites  positives,  in  which, 
alas !  poor  imagination  has  hitherto  been  able  to 
do  little    for  the  world.      Mrae.   D 'Albert   antici- 
pates all  my  wants,  and  makes  a  spoiled  child  of 


176  M.  and  Mme.  D' Albert.  [geneva, 

Letter  to  the  me.  I  like  these  dear  people  better  and  better, 
oafi849.^^  — everything  is  so  in  harmony  with  one's  moral 
feeling,  that  I  really  can  almost  say  I  never  en- 
joyed a  more  complete  hien  e'tre  in  my  life  than 
during  the  last  furtnight.  For  M.  D 'Albert,  I 
love  him  already  as  if  he  were  father  and  brother 
both.  His  face  is  rather  haggard-looking,  but  all 
the  lines  and  the  wavy  grey  hair  indicate  the  tem- 
perament of  the  artist.  I  have  not  heard  a  word 
or  seen  a  gesture  of  his  yet  that  was  not  perfectly 
in  harmony  with  an  exquisite  moral  refinement^  — 
indeed  one  feels  a  better  person  always  when  he  is 
present.  He  sings  well,  and  plays  on  the  piano  a 
little.  It  is  delightful  to  hear  him  talk  of  his 
friends,  —  he  admires  them  so  genuinely,  —  one 
sees  so  clearly  that  there  is  no  reflex  egotism. 
His  conversation  is  charming.  I  learn  something 
every  dinner-time.  Mme.  D 'Albert  has  less  of 
genius  and  more  of  cleverness,  — a  really  ladylike 
person,  who  says  everything  well.  She  brings  up 
her  children  admirably,  —  two  nice  intelligent 
boys,i  —  the  youngest  particularly  has  a  sort  of 
Lamartine  expression,  with  a  fine  head.  It  is  so 
delightful  to  get  among  people  who  exhibit  no 
meannesses,  no  worldlinesses,  that  one  may  well  be 
enthusiastic.  To  me  it  is  so  blessed  to  fiud  any 
departure  from  the  rule  of  giving  as  little  as 
possible  for  as  much  as  possible.  Their  whole 
behaviour  to  me  is  as  if  I  were  a  guest  whom  they 
delighted  to  honour.  Last  night  we  had  a  little 
knot  of  their  most  intimate  musical  friends,  and 

^  Mr.  Charles  Lewes  tells  me  that  when  he  went  to  stay  with 
the  D'Alberts  at  Geneva,  many  years  afterwards,  they  mentioned 
how  much  they  had  been  strucl^  by  her  extraordinary  discernment 
of  the  character  of  these  two  boys. 


1849.]  Home  Bememhrances.  177 

M.  and  Mme.  D 'Albert  introduced  me  to  them  as  Letter  to 
if   they  wished  me  to  know  them,  —  as  if  they  mu^oX' 
wished  me  to  like  their  friends  and  their  friends  ^^^' 
to  like  me.      The  p'eople  and    the  evening  would 
have  been  just  after  your  own  hearts.      In  fact,  I 
have  not  the  slightest  pretext  fur  being  discon- 
tented, —  not  the  shadow  of  a  discomfort.     Even 
the  little  housemaid   Jeanne  is  charming,  —  says 
to   me    every    morning,    in    the    prettiest    voice : 
"  Madame  a-t-elle  bieu  dormi  cette  nuit?  "  — puts 
fire    in    my    chauffe-picd   without    being    told,  — 
cleans  my  rooms  most  conscientiously.     There,  — 
I  promise  to  weary  you  less  for  the  future  with  ray 
descriptions.      I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to 
speak  gratefully  of  M.  and  Mme.  D 'Albert. 

Give  my  love  to  Mrs.  Pears,  —  my  constant  ever 
fresh  remembrance.  My  love  to  Miss  Eebecca 
Franklin,  —  tell  her  I  have  only  spun  my  web  to 
Geneva,  —  it  will  infallibly  carry  me  back  again 
across  the  gulf,  were  it  twice  as  great.  If  Mr. 
Froude  preached  the  new  word  at  Manchester,  I 
hope  he  will  preach  it  so  as  to  do  without  an  after 
explanation,  and  not  bewilder  his  hearers  in  the 
manner  of  Mephistopheles  when  he  dons  the 
doctor's  gown  of  Faust.  I  congratulate  you  on 
the  new  edition,^  and  promise  to  read  it  with  a 
disposition  to  admire  when  I  am  at  Kosehill  once 
more.  I  am  beginning  to  lose  respect  for  the 
petty  acumen  that  sees  difficulties.  I  love  the 
souls  that  rush  along  to  their  goal  with  a  full 
stream  of  sentiment,  —  that  have  too  much  of  the 
positive  to  be  harassed  by  the  perpetual  negatives, 
—  which,    after   all,    are   but   the    disease  of   the 

1  "  Philosophy  of  Necessity,"  by  Charles  Bray. 

VOL.    I.  —  12 


178 


Delight  in  Town  Life. 


[GENEVA, 


Letter  to  the 
Brays,  26th 
Oct.  1849. 


Letter  to 
the  Brays, 
28th  Oct. 
1849. 


Letter  to 
Mi3S  Sara 
Heiinell, 
28th  Oct. 
1849. 


soul,  to  be  expelled  by  fortifying  the  principle  of 
vitality. 

Good-bye,  dear  loves  :  sha'n't  I  kiss  you  when  I 
am  in  England  again,  —  in  England !  I  already 
begin  to  think  of  the  journey  as  an  impossibility. 
Geneva  is  so  beautiful  now,  the  trees  have  their 
richest  colouring.  Coventry  is  a  fool  to  it,  —  but 
then  you  are  at  Coventry,  and  you  are  better  than 
lake,  trees,  and  mountains. 

We  have  had  some  delicious  autumn  days  here. 
If  the  fine  weather  last,  I  am  going  up  the  Sal  eve 
on  Sunday  with  M.  D 'Albert.  On  one  side  I  shall 
have  a  magnificent  view  of  the  lake,  the  town, 
and  the  Jura;  on  the  other,  the  range  of  Mont 
Blanc.  The  walks  about  Geneva  are  perfectly 
enchanting.  "  Ah !  "  says  poor  Mile.  Faizan ; 
"  nous  avons  un  beau  pays  si  nous  n'avions  pas  ces 
Eadicaux!  "  The  election  of  the  Conseil  d'Etat  is 
to  take  place  in  November,  and  an  emeute  is 
expected.  The  actual  Government  is  Eadical,  and 
thoroughly  detested  by  all  the  "  respectable 
classes.  The  Vice-President  of  the  Conseil,  and 
the  virtual  head  of  the  Government,  is  an  unprin- 
cipled clever  fellow,  horribly  in  debt  himself,  and 
on  the  way  to  reduce  the  Government  to  the  same 
position. 

I  like  my  town  life  vastly.  I  shall  like  it  still 
better  in  the  winter.  There  is  an  indescribable 
charm  to  me  in  this  form  of  human  nest-making. 
You  enter  a  by  no  means  attractive-looking  house, 
you  climb  up  two  or  three  flights  of  cold,  dark- 
looking  stone  steps,  you  ring  at  a  very  modest 
door,  and  you  enter  a  set  of  rooms  snug  or  com- 
fortable or  elegant.  One  is  so  out  of  reach  of 
intruders,  so  undiverted  from  one's  occupations  by 


1849.]  Spinoza  Translation.  179 

externals,  so  free  from  cold  rushing  winds  through  Letter  to 
hall  doors,  —  one  feels  in  a  downy  nest  high  up  in  Henueu? 
a  good  old  tree.  I  have  always  had  a  hankering  tu^i. 
after  this  sort  of  life,  and  I  find  it  was  a  true 
instinct  of  what  would  suit  me.  Just  opposite 
my  windows  is  the  street  in  which  the  Sisters  of 
Charity  live;  and  if  I  look  out,  I  generally  see 
either  one  of  them  or  a  sober-looking  ecclesiastic. 
Then  a  walk  of  five  minutes  takes  me  out  of  all 
streets,  within  sight  of  beauties  that  I  am  sure 
you  too  would  love,  if  you  did  not  share  my 
enthusiasm  for  the  town.  I  have  not  another 
minute,  having  promised  to  go  out  before  dinner, 
—  so,  dearest,  take  my  letter  as  a  hasty  kiss,  just 
to  let  you  know  how  constantly  I  love  you,  — 
how,  the  longer  I  live  and  the  more  I  have  felt, 
the  better  I  know  how  to  value  you. 

I  write  at  once  to  answer  your  questions  about  Letter  to 
business.  Spinoza  and  I  have  been  divorced  for  Br^y.^lth 
several  months.  My  want  of  health  has  obliged  ^^''"  '^^^' 
me  to  renounce  all  application.  I  take  walks, 
play  on  the  piano,  read  Voltaire,  talk  to  my 
friends,  and  just  take  a  dose  of  mathematics  every 
day  to  prevent  my  brain  from  becoming  quite  soft. 
If  you  are  anxious  to  publish  the  translation  in 
question,  I  could,  after  a  few  months,  finish  the 
"  Tractatus  Theologico-Politicus  "  to  keep  it  com- 
pany ;  but  I  confess  to  you  that  I  think  you  would 
do  better  to  abstain  from  printing  a  translation. 
What  is  wanted  in  English  is  not  a  translation  of 
Spinoza's  works,  but  a  true  estimate  of  his  life 
and  system.  After  one  has  rendered  his  Latin 
faithfully  into  English,  one  feels  that  there  is 
another  yet  more  difficult  process  of  translation 
for  the  reader  to  effect,  and  that  the  only  mode  of 


180 


Affection  for  the  D' Alberts.        [geneva, 


Letter  to 
Cliarles 
Bray,  4th 
Dec.  1S49. 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Bray, 
4tli  Dec. 
1849, 


making  Spinoza  accessible  to  a  larger  number  is 
to  study  his  books,  then  shut  them,  and  give  an 
analysis.  For  those  who  read  the  very  words 
Spinoza  wrote,  there  is  the  same  sort  of  interest 
in  his  style  as  in  the  conversation  of  a  person  of 
great  capacity  who  has  led  a  solitary  life,  and  who 
says  from  his  own  soul  what  all  the  world  is  say- 
ing by  rote ;  but  this  interest  hardly  belongs  to  a 
translation. 

Your  letter  is  very  sweet  to  me,  giving  me  a 
picture  of  your  quiet  life.  How  shall  I  enable  you 
to  imagine  mine,  since  you  know  nothing  of  the 
localities  ?  My  good  friends  here  only  change  for 
the  better.  Mme.  D 'Albert  is  all  affection;  M. 
D'Albert  all  delicacy  and  intelligence;  the  friends 
to  whom  they  have  introduced  me  very  kind  in 
their  attentions.  In  fact,  I  want  nothing  but  a 
little  more  money  to  feel  more  at  ease  about  my 
fires,  &c.  I  am  in  an  atmosphere  of  love  and 
refinement ;  even  the  little  servant  Jeanne  seems 
to  love  me,  and  does  me  good  every  time  she 
comes  into  the  room.  I  can  say  anything  to  M. 
and  Mme.  D'Albert.  M.  D'A.  understands  every- 
thing, and  if  Madame  does  not  understand,  she 
believes,  —  that  is,  she  seems  always  sure  that  I 
mean  something  edifying.  She  kisses  me  like  a 
mother,  and  I  am  baby  enough  to  find  that  a  great 
addition  to  my  happiness.  Au  reste,  I  am  careful 
for  nothing;  I  am  a  sort  of  supernumerary  spoon, 
and  there  will  be  no  damage  to  the  set  if  I  am 
lost.  My  heart  ties  are  not  loosened  by  distance, 
■ — it  is  not  in  the  nature  of  ties  to  be  so;  and 
when  I  think  of  my  loved  ones  as  those  to  whom 
I  can  be  a  comforter,  a  help,  I  long  to  be  with 
them  again.     Otherwise,  I  can  only  think  with  a 


18d0.]  Christmas  Wishes.  181 

shudder  of  returning  to  England.     It  looks  to  me  Letter  to 
like  a  land  of  gloom,  of  emiui,  of  platitude ;  but  4ti?ber^' 
in  the  midst  of  all  this  it  is  the  land  of  duty  and  ^^^' 
affection,  and  the  only  ardent  hope  I  have  for  my 
future  life  is  to  have  given  to  me  some  woman's 
Juty,  — some  possibility  of  devoting  myself  where 
I  may  see  a  daily  result  of  pure  calm  blessedness 
in  the  life  of  another. 

How  do  you  look?  I  hope  that  landcau  of  Letter  to 
silvery  locks  is  not  widening  too  fast  on  the  head  Henu<>n?\h 
I  love  so  well,  —  that  the  eyes  are  as  bright  as  ^^^'  ■^^^" 
ever.  Your  letter  tells  me  they  will  beam  as 
kindly  as  ever  when  I  see  them  once  more.  Never 
make  apologies  about  your  letters,  or  your  words, 
or  anything  else.  It  is  your  soul  to  which  I  am 
wedded ;  and  do  I  not  know  too  well  how  the  soul 
is  doubly  belied,  —  first  by  the  impossibility  of 
being  in  word  and  act  as  great,  as  loving,  as  good 
as  it  wills  to  be,  and  again  by  the  miserable  weak- 
nesses of  the  friends  who  see  the  words  and  acts 
through  all  sorts  of  mists  raised  by  their  own  pas- 
sions and  preoccupations  ?  In  all  these  matters  I 
am  the  chief  of  sinners,  and  I  am  tempted  to 
rejoice  in  the  offences  of  my  friends,  because  they 
make  me  feel  less  humiliation.  I  am  quite  satis- 
fied to  be  at  Geneva  instead  of  Paris ;  in  fact,  I 
am  becoming  passionately  attached  to  the  moun- 
tains, the  lake,  the  streets,  my  own  room,  and, 
above  all,  the  dear  people  with  whom  I  live. 

A  thousand  Christmas  pleasures  and  blessings  to  Letter  to  the 
you,  —  good  resolutions  and  bright  hopes  for  the  Decrim 
New  Year!     Amen.     People  who  can't   be  witty 
exert    themselves    to    be    pious    or    affectionate. 
Henceforth  I  tell  you  nothing  whatever  about  my- 
self ;  for  if  I  speak  of  agreeables,  and  say  I  am  con- 


182  Professeur  de  la  Hive's  Lectures,     [geneva, 

Letter  to  the  tented,  Mr.  Bray  writes  me  word  that  you  are  all 
Decri849.  trying  to  forget  me.  If  I  were  to  tell  you  of  dis- 
agreeables and  privations  and  sadness,  Sara  would 
write :  "  If  you  are  unhappy  now,  you  will  be  so 
d,  fortiori  ten  years  hence.  "  Now,  since  I  have  a 
decided  objection  to  doses  sent  by  post  which  upset 
one's  digestion  for  a  fortnight,  I  am  determined  to 
give  you  no  pretext  for  sending  them.  You  shall 
not  know  whether  I  am  well  or  ill,  contented  or 
discontented,  warm  or  cold,  fat  or  thin.  But 
remember  that  I  am  so  far  from  being  of  the  same 
mind  as  Mr.  Bray,  that  good  news  of  you  is  neces- 
sary to  my  comfort.  I  walk  more  briskly,  and 
jump  out  of  bed  more  promptly,  after  a  letter  that 
tells  me  you  are  well  and  comfortable,  that  busi- 
ness is  promising,  that  men  begin  to  speak  well  of 
you,  &c.  "  I  am  comforted  in  your  comfort, "  as 
saith  St.  Paul  to  the  troublesome  Corinthians. 
When  one  is  cabined,  cribbed,  confined  in  one's 
self,  it  is  good  to  be  enlarged  in  one's  friends. 
Good  Mr.  Marshall !  We  wish  to  keep  even  un- 
amiable  people  when  death  calls  for  them,  much 
more  good  souls  like  him.  I  am  glad  he  had  had 
one  more  pleasant  visit  to  Cara  for  her  to  think  of. 
Dear  Sara's  letter  is  very  charming,  —  not  at  all 
physicky,  —  rather  an  agreeable  draught  of  vin 
Sucre.  Dear  Mr,  Hennell,  we  shall  never  look 
upon  his  like. 

I  am  attending  a  course  of  lectures  on  Experi- 
mental Physics  by  M.  le  Professeur  de  la  Pave,  the 
inventor,  amongst  other  things,  of  the  electroplat- 
ing. The  lectures  occur  every  Wednesday  and 
Saturday.  It  is  time  for  me  to  go.  I  am  dis- 
tressed to  send  you  this  shabby  last  fragment  of 
paper,  and  to  write  in  such  a  hurry,  but  the  days 


1850.]  Severe  Winter.  183 

are  really  only  two  hours  long,   and  I  have   so  Letter  to 
many  things  to  do  that  I  go  to  bed  every  night  LdDecr* 
miserable   because  I   have   left   out   something   I  ^^^' 
meant  to  do.      Good-bye,   dear  souls.     Forget  me 
if  you  like,  you  cannot  oblige  me  to  forget  you; 
and  the  active  is  worth  twice  of  the  passive  all 
the  world  over!     The  earth  is  covered  with  snow, 
and  the  Government  is  levelling  the  fortifications. 

You  leave  me  a  long  time  without  news  of  you,  Lettertothe 
though  I  told  you  they  were  necessary  as  a  coun-  ja^:  isl!^ 
teractive  to  the  horrors  of  this  terrible  winter. 
Are  you  really  so  occupied  as  to  have  absolutely 
no  time  to  think  of  me  ?  I  console  myself,  at 
least  to-day,  now  we  have  a  blue  sky  once  more 
after  two  months  of  mist,  with  thinking  that  I  am 
excluded  by  pleasanter  ideas,  —  that  at  least  you 
are  well  and  comfortable,  and  I  ought  to  content 
myself  with  that.  The  fact  is,  I  am  much  of 
Touchstone's  mind, — in  respect  my  life  is  at 
Geneva,  I  like  it  very  well,  but  in  respect  it  is 
not  with  you,  it  is  a  very  vile  life.  I  have  no 
5'earnings  to  exchange  lake  and  mountains  for 
Bishop  Street  and  the  Kadford  Fields,  but  I  have 
a  great  yearning  to  kiss  you  all  and  talk  to  you  for 
three  days  running.  I  do  not  think  it  will  be 
possible  for  me  to  undertake  the  journey  before 
the  end  of  March.  I  look  forward  to  it  with  great 
dread.  I  see  myself  looking  utterly  miserable, 
ready  to  leave  all  my  luggage  behind  me  at  Paris 
for  the  sake  of  escaping  the  trouble  of  it.  We 
have  had  Alboni  here,  —  a  very  fat  siren.  There 
has  been  some  capital  acting  of  comedies  by  friends 
of  M.  D 'Albert,  — one  of  them  is  superior  to  any 
professional  actor  of  comedy  I  have  ever  seen.  He 
reads  vaudevilles  so  marvellously  that  one   seems 


Feb.  1850. 


184  Yearning  for  Old  Friends.        [gekeva, 

to  have  a  whole  troupe  of  actors  before  one  in  his 
single  person.     He  is  a  handsome    man    of   fifty, 
full  of  wit  and  talent,  and  he  married  about  a  year 
ago. 
Letter  to  It  is  ono  of  the  provoking  contrarieties  of  destiny 

ton/'juT"^^'  that  I  should  have  written  my  croaking  letter 
when  your  own  kind  consolatory  one  was  on  its 
way  to  me.  I  have  been  happier  ever  since  it 
came.  After  mourning  two  or  three  months  over 
Chrissey's  account  of  your  troubles,  I  can  only 
dwell  on  that  part  of  your  letter  which  tells  that 
there  is  a  little  more  blue  in  your  sky,  —  that  you 
have  faith  in  the  coming  Spring.  Shall  you  be  as 
"lad  to  see  me  as  to  hear  the  cuckoo  ?  I  mean  to 
return  to  England  as  soon  as  the  Jura  is  passable 
without  sledges,  —  probably  the  end  of  March  or 
beginning  of  April.  I  have  a  little  Heimweh  "  as 
it  regards  "  my  friends.  I  yearn  to  see  those  I 
have  loved  the  longest,  but  I  shall  feel  real  grief 
at  parting  from  the  excellent  people  with  whom  I 
am  living.  I  feel  they  are  m.y  friends,  — without 
entering  into  or  even  knowing  the  greater  part 
of  my  views,  they  understand  my  character,  and 
have  a  real  interest  in  me.  I  have  infinite  ten- 
derness from  Mme.  D 'Albert.  I  call  her  always 
"  maman ;  "  and  she  is  just  the  creature  one  loves 
to  lean  on  and  be  petted  by.  In  fact,  I  am  too 
much  indulged,  and  shall  go  back  to  England  as 
undisciplined  as  ever.  This  terribly  severe  winter 
has  been  a  drawback  on  my  recovering  my  strength. 
I  have  lost  whole  weeks  from  headache,  &c. ,  but 
I  am  certainly  better  now  than  when  I  came  to 
Mme.  D 'Albert.  You  tell  me  to  give  you  these 
details,  so  I  obey.  Decidedly  England  is  the 
most  comfortable  country  to  be  in  in  winter,  —  at 


1850,]  Snow  on  the  Jura.  185 

least  for  all  except  those  who  are  rich  enough  to  Letter  to 
buy  English  comforts  everywhere.      I  liate  myself  tont^tifFeU. 
for  caring  about  carpets,  easy-chairs,  and  coal  tires,  ^^^' 
■ —  one's  soul  is  under  a  curse,  and  can  preach  no 
truth  while  one  is  in  bondage  to  the  liesh  in  this 
way ;   but  alas !   habit  is  the  purgatory  in  which 
we  suffer  for  our  past  sins.     I  hear  much  music. 
We    have    a   reunion    of    musical    friends   every 
Monday        For   the   rest   I   have   refused   soirees, 
which  are  as  stupid  and  unprofitable  at  Geneva  as 
in  England.      I  save  all  more  interesting  details, 
that  I  may  have  them  to  tell  you  when  I  am  with 
you.     I  am  going  now  to  a  seance  on  Experimental 
Physics  by  the  celebrated  Professor  de  la   Eive. 
This  letter  will  at  least  convince  you  that  I  am 
not  eaten  up  by  wolves,  as  they  have  been  fearing 
at  Rosehill.     The    English  papers  tell  of   wolves 
descending  from  the  Jura  and  devouring  the  in- 
habitants  of  the  villages,    but  we  have   been  in 
happy  ignorance  of  these  editors'  horrors. 

If  you  saw  the  Jura  to-day!  The  snow  reveals  Letter to^th* 
its  forests,  ravines,  and  precipices,  and  it  stands  Feb.  iWo. 
in  relief  against  a  pure  blue  sky.  The  snow  is  on 
the  mountains  only  now,  and  one  is  tempted  to 
walk  all  day,  particularly  when  one  lies  in  bed 
till  ten,  as  your  exemplary  friend  sometimes  does. 
I  have  had  no  discipline,  and  shall  return  to  you 
more  of  a  spoiled  child  than  ever.  Indeed  I  think 
I  am  destined  to  be  so  to  the  end, — one  of  the 
odious  swarm  of  voracious  caterpillars,  soon  to  be 
swept  away  from  the  earth  by  a  tempest.  I  am 
getting  better  bodily.  I  have  much  less  headache, 
but  the  least  excitement  fatigues  me.  Certainly  if 
one  cannot  have  a  malady  to  carry  one  off  rapidly, 
the  only  sensible  thing  is  to  get  well  and  fat;  and 


186  Portrait  ly  M.  D' Albert.  [geneva, 

Letter  to  the  I  belie  ve  I  shall  be  driven  to  that  alternative. 

Febrim  You  know  that  George  Sand  writes  for  the  theatre  ? 
Her  "  FranQois  le  Champi,  —  une  Comddie, "  is 
simplicity  and  purity  itself.  The  seven  devils 
are  cast  out.  We  are  going  to  have  more  acting 
here  on  Wednesday.  M.  Chancel's  talent  makes 
Maman's  soirees  quite  brilliant.  You  will  be 
amused  to  hear  that  I  am  sitting  for  my  portrait, 
—  at  M.  D'Albert's  request,  not  mine.  If  it  turns 
out  well,  I  shall  long  to  steal  it  to  give  to  you ; 
but  M.  D 'Albert  talks  of  painting  a  second,  and 
in  that  case  I  shall  certainly  beg  one.  The  idea 
of  making  a  study  of  my  visage  is  droll  enough. 
I  have  the  kindest  possible  letters  from  my  brother 
and  sisters,  promising  me  the  warmest  welcome. 
This  helps  to  give  me  courage  for  the  journey;  but 
the  strongest  magnet  of  all  is  a  certain  little  group 
of  three  persons  whom  I  hope  to  find  together  at 
Rosehill.  Something  has  been  said  of  M.  D 'Albert 
accompanying  me  to  Paris.  I  am  saddened  when 
I  think  of  all  the  horrible  anxieties  of  trade.  If 
I  had  children,  I  would  make  them  carpenters  and 
shoemakers ;  that  is  the  way  to  make  them  Mes- 
siahs and  Jacob  Boehms.  As  for  us  who  are 
dependent  on  carpets  and  easy-chairs,  we  are  repro- 
bates, and  shall  never  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.  I  go  to  the  Genevese  churches  every 
Sunday,  and  nourish  my  heterodoxy  with  orthodox 
sermons.  However,  there  are  some  clever  men 
here  in  the  Church,  and  I  am  fortunate  in  being 
here  at  a  time  when  the  very  cleverest  is  giving  a 
series  of  conferences.  I  think  I  have  never  told 
you  that  we  have  a  long  German  lad  of  seventeen 
in  the  house,  — 'the  most  taciturn  and  awkward  of 
lads.     He   said   very  naively,  when  I  reproached 


1850.]  Last  Days  at  Geneva.  187 

him  for  not  talking  to  a  German  young  lady  at 
a  soiree,  when  he  was  seated  next  her  at  table, 
"  Je  ne  savais  que  faire  de  mes  jambes. "  They 
had  placed  the  poor  garcon  against  one  of  those 
card-tables, — all  legs,   like  himself. 

The  weather  is  so  glorious  that  I  think  I  may  Lettertothe 
set  out  on  my  journey  soon  after  the  15th.  I  am  March, Vsso. 
not  quite  certain  yet  that  M.  D 'Albert  will  not  be 
able  to  accompany  me  to  Paris ;  in  any  case,  a 
package  of  so  little  value  will  get  along  safely 
enough.  I  am  so  excited  at  the  idea  of  the  time 
being  so  near  when  I  am  to  leave  Geneva,  —  a  real 
grief,  —  and  see  my  friends  in  England,  —  a  per- 
fectly overwhelming  joy,  —  that  I  can  do  nothing. 
I  am  frightened  to  think  what  an  idle  wretch  I  am 
become.  And  you  all  do  not  write  me  one  word 
to  tell  me  you  long  for  me.  I  have  a  great  mind 
to  elope  to  Constantinople,  and  never  see  any  one 
any  more ! 

It  is  with  a  feeling  of  regret  that  we  take 
leave  of  the  pleasant  town  of  Geneva,  its  lake 
and  mountains,  and  its  agreeable  little  circle 
of  acquaintance.  It  was  a  peacefully  happy 
episode  in  George  Eliot's  life,  and  one  she  was 
always  fond  of  recurring  to,  in  our  talk,  up  to 
the  end  of  her  life. 


188  Eummary  of  Chapter  IV.       [1849-50.J 


SUMMARY. 

JUNE,    1849,    TO    MARCH,    1850. 

Goes  aliroad  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bray  —  Geneva  —  Life  at  Cam- 
pagne  J^longeon  —  Letters  to  Brays  describing  surroundings  — 
Mrs.  Locke  —  The  St.  Germain  family  —  Anxiety  about  her  boxes 
with  books,  &c.  —  Hears  M.  Meuuier  preaeli  —  Patriotism  the  first 
of  virtues — Mrae.  Cornelius  —  Mme.  de  Ludwigsdorff  —  "Fete 
of  >.'avigation  "  on  the  lake — Demand  for  letters — Prophetic 
anticipation  of  position  seven  years  later  —  Wislies  to  sell  some 
of  her  books  and  globes  to  get  music  lessons  —  Letter  to  Mrs. 
Houghton  —  Loss  of  Mrs.  Clarke's  child  —  Love  of  Lake  of  Ge- 
neva —  Letters  to  Brays  —  Mme.  Ludwigsdorff  wishes  her  to 
spend  winter  in  Paris  —  Mile.  Faizan  —  Finds  apartment  in  Ge- 
neva, Xo.  107  Kue  des  Chanoines,  with  M.  and  Mme.  D'Albert  — 
Enjoyment  of  their  society  —  Remarks  on  translations  of  Spinoza 
—  Hope  of  a  woman's  duty -^  Attachment  to  Geneva — Yearning 
for  friends  at  home  —  Alboni  —  Private  theatricals  —  Portrait  by 
M.  D'Albert  —  Remarks  on  education  of  children  —  Leaving 
Geneva. 


CHAPTEK  V. 

M.    D 'Albert   and    his    charge    left    Geneva 
towards  the  middle  of  March,  and  as  the  rail- 
way was  not  yet  opened  all  the  way  to  France, 
they  had  to  cross  the  Jura  in  sledges,  and  suf- 
fered terribly  from  the  cold.     They  joined  the 
railway  at  Tonnerre,  and  came  through  Paris, 
arriving    in    England    on    the    23d    of    March. 
After   a    day    in    London,    Miss    Evans   went 
straight  to  her  friends  at  Piosehill,  where  she 
stayed  for  a  few  days  before  going  on  to  Griff. 
It  will  have  been  seen   that  she  had  set  her 
hopes  high   on   the  delights   of  home-coming, 
and    with    her    too    sensitive,    impressionable 
nature,  it  is  not  difficult  to  understand,  with- 
out attributing  blame  to  any  one,  that  she  was 
pretty  sure  to  be  laying  up  disappointment  for 
herself.     All  who  have  had  the  experience  of 
returning  from  a  bright  sunny  climate  to  Eng- 
land in  March  will  recognise  in  the  next  letters 
the  actual  presence  of  the  east  wind,  the  leaden 
sky,  the  gritty  dust,  and  le  spleen. 
No ;  I  am  not  in  England,  —  I  am  only  nearer  the  Letter  to 
beings  I  love  best.     I  try  to  forget  all  geography,  Henneii.end 
and  that  I  have  placed  myself  irretrievably  out  of  i8r)0,Vom 
reach  of  nature's  brightest  glories  and  beauties  to  ^°^^^^  • 
shiver  in  a  wintry  flat.     I  am  unspeakably  grate- 
ful to  find  these  dear  creatures  looking  well  and 
happy,    in  spite  of  worldly  cares,  but  your  dear 


190  Eeturn  to  England.  [rosehill, 

Letter  to      facG  aiid  voice  are  wanting  to  me.     But  I  must 
Henuerend  walt  witli   patlencG,    and  perhaps  by  the  time  I 
18.^'from     liave  finished  my  visits  to  my  relations,  you  will 
Rose'hui.       Ijq  ready  to  come  to  Kosehill  again.      I  want  you 
to  scold  me,  and  make  me  good.      I  am  idle  and 
naughty,  —  on  ne i^eut i^lus,  —  sinking  into  heathen- 
ish ignorance  and  woman's  frivolity.      Eemember, 
you  are  one  of  my  guardian  angels. 
Letter  to  Will  you  seud  the  enclosed    note   to   Mrs.    C. 

H^nnenr      Hcnnell  ?     I  am  not  quite  sure  about  her  direction, 
A^Siilof  but  I  am  anxious  to  thank  her  for  her  kindness  in 
fromGriif.'    i^vitina  me.      Will  you  also  send  me  an  account 
of  Mr.   Chapman's  prices  for  lodgers,   and  if  you 
know  anything  of  other  boarding-houses,   &c.,   in 
London  ?     Will  you  tell  me  what  you  can  ?     I  am 
not  asking  you  merely  for  the  sake  of  giving  you 
trouble.      I  am  really  anxious   to  know.      Oh  the 
dismal  weather,  and  the  dismal  country,  and  the 
dismal  people.     It  was  some  envious  demon  that 
drove  me  across  the  Jura.      However,  I  am  deter- 
mined to  sell  everything  I  possess,  except  a  port- 
manteau and  carpet-bag  and  the  necessary  contents, 
and  be  a  stranger  and  a  foreigner  on  the  earth  for 
evermore.     But  I  must  see  you  first;    that  is  a 
yearning  I  still  have  in  spite  of  disappointments. 
From  Griff  she  went  to  stay  with  her  sister, 
Mrs.   Clarke,   at  Meriden,  whence  she  writes : 
Letter  to      Havc  you  any  engagement  for  the  week  after  next? 
24th  Apru,    If  not,  may  I  join  you  on  Saturday  the  4th,  and 
invite  M.  D 'Albert  to  come  down  on  the  following 
Monday?     It  appears  he  cannot  stay  in  England 
longer  than  until  about  the  second  week  in  May. 
I  am  uncomfortable  at  the  idea  of  burthcning  even 
your  friendship  with  the  entertainment  of  a  person 
purely  for  my  sake.     It  is  indeed  the  greatest  of 


1850 


1850.]      Mackay's  "  Progress  of  the  Intellect"        191 

all   the   great    kindnesses    you  have   shown   ine.  Letter  to 
Write  me  two  or  three  kind  words,  dear  Cara.     I  24th  Apru, 
have  been   so  ill  at  ease  ever  since  I  have   been  ^^^' 
in  England   that  I  am   quite   discouraged.     Dear 
Chrissey  is  generous  and  sympathising,  and  really 
cares  for  my  happiness. 

On  the  4th  of  May  Miss  Evans  went  to  Eose- 
hill,  and  on  the  7th   M.   D 'Albert  joined  the 
party  for  a  three  days'  visit.     The  strong  affec- 
tion existing  between  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bray  and 
their  guest,  and  the  more  congenial  intellectual 
atmosphere  surrounding  them,  led  Miss  Evans 
to  make  her  home  practically  at  Eosehill  for 
the  next  sixteen    months.      She  stayed  there 
continuously    till    the    18th    November,    and, 
among  other  things,  wrote  a  review  of  Mackay's 
"  Progress  of  the  Intellect. "      In  October  Mr. 
Mackay  and  Mr.  Chapman,  who  was  then  nego- 
tiating for  the  purchase  of  the  "  Westminster 
Eeview, "  came  to  stay  at  Eosehill,   and  there 
was  probably  some  talk  then  about  her  assisting 
in  the  editorial  work  of  the  "  Eeview,"  but  it 
was  not  until   the  following  spring  that  any 
definite    understanding    on    this    subject   was 
arrived  at.      Meantime  the  article  on  Mackay's 
"  Progress  of   the  Intellect  "  came  out  in  the 
January,  1851,  number  of  the  "  Westminster." 
It  contains  the  following  remarkable  passages  : 
"  Our  civilisation,  and  yet  more,  our  religion,  are 
an  anomalous  blending  of  lifeless  barbarisms,  which 
have  descended  to  us  like  so  many  petrifactions 
from  distant  ages,  with  living  ideas,  the  offspring 
of   a   true   process    of   development.      We    are  in 
bondage  to  terms  and  conceptions,  which,  having 
had  their  roots  in  conditions  of  thought  no  longer 


192     Reviews  Mackay's  "Progress  of  the     [kosehill, 

existing,  have  ceased  to  possess  any  vitality,  and 
are  for  us  as  spells  which  have  lost  their  virtue. 
The  endeavour  to  spread  enlightened  ideas  is  per- 
petually counteracted  by  these  idola  theatri,  which 
have  allied  themselves  on  the  one  hand  with  men's 
better  sentiments,  and  on  the  other  with  institu- 
tions in  whose  defence  are  arrayed  the  passions 
and  the  interests  of  dominant  classes.  Now, 
although  the  teaching  of  positive  truth  is  the 
grand  means  of  expelling  error,  the  process  will  be 
very  much  quickened  if  the  negative  argument 
serve  as  its  pioneer ;  if,  by  a  survey  of  the  past,  it 
can  be  shown  how  each  age  and  each  race  has  had 
a  faith  and  a  symbolism  suited  to  its  need  and  its 
stage  of  development,  and  that  for  succeeding  ages 
to  dream  of  retaining  the  spirit  along  with  the 
forms  of  the  past,  is  as  futile  as  the  embalming  of 
the  dead  body  in  the  hope  that  it  may  one  day  be 
resumed  by  the  living  soul.  ...  It  is  Mr.  Mackay's 
faith  that  divine  revelation  is  not  contained  ex- 
clusively or  pre-eminently  in  the  facts  and  inspira- 
tions of  any  one  age  or  nation,  but  is  co-extensive 
with  the  history  of  human  development,  and  is 
perpetually  unfolding  itself  to  our  widened  experi- 
ence and  investigation,  as  firmament  upon  firma- 
ment becomes  visible  to  us  in  proportion  to  the 
power  and  range  of  our  exploring  instruments. 
The  master-key  to  this  revelation  is  the  recogni- 
tion of  the  presence  of  undeviating  law  in  the 
material  and  moral  world,  —  of  that  invariability 
of  sequence  which  is  acknowledged  to  be  the  basis 
of  physical  science,  but  which  is  still  perversely 
ignored  in  our  social  organisation,  our  ethics,  and 
our  religion.  It  is  this  invariability  of  sequence 
which    can   alone   give   value    to  experience,    and 


1851.]        Intellect "  in  the  "  Westminster."  193 

render  education,  in  the  true  sense,  possible.  The 
divine  yea  and  nay,  the  seal  of  prohibition  and 
of  sanction,  are  effectually  impressed  on  human 
deeds  and  aspirations,  not  by  means  of  Greek  and 
Hebrew,  but  by  that  inexorable  law  of  conse- 
quences, whose  evidence  is  confirmed  instead  of 
weakened  as  the  ages  advance ;  and  human  duty  is 
comprised  in  the  earnest  study  of  this  law  and 
patient  obedience  to  its  teaching.  While  this 
belief  sheds  a  bright  beam  of  promise  on  the  future 
career  of  our  race,  it  lights  up  what  once  seemed 
the  dreariest  region  of  history  with  new  interest ; 
every  past  phase  of  human  development  is  part  of 
that  education  of  the  race  in  which  we  are  sharing ; 
every  mistake,  every  absurdity  into  which  poor 
human  nature  has  fallen,  may  be  looked  on  as  an 
experiment  of  which  we  may  reap  the  benefit.  A 
correct  generalisation  gives  significance  to  the 
smallest  detail,  just  as  the  great  inductions  of 
geology  demonstrate  in  every  pebble  the  working 
of  laws  by  which  the  earth  has  become  adapted  for 
the  habitation  of  man.  In  this  view,  religion  and 
philosophy  are  not  merely  conciliated,  they  are 
identical ;  or  rather,  religion  is  the  crown  and  con- 
summation of  philosophy,  —  the  delicate  corolla 
which  can  only  spread  out  its  petals  in  all  their 
symmetry  and  brilliance  to  the  sun,  when  root 
and  branch  exhibit  the  conditions  of  a  healthy  and 
vigorous  life. " 

Miss  Evans  seems  to  have  been  in  London 
from  the  beginning  of  January  till  the  end  of 
March,  1851;  and  Mr.  Chapman  made  another 
fortnight's  visit  to  Eosehill  at  the  end  of  May 
and  beginning  of  June.  It  was  during  this 
period  that,  with  Miss  Evans's  assistance,  the 

VOL.  ].  — 13 


194  Visit  to  Bishop  Steignton.     [142  stranjv 

prospectus  of  the  new  series  of  the  "  Westmviv . 
ster  Review  "   was  determined  on  and  put  in 
shape.     At  the  end  of  July  she  went  with  Mrs. 
Bray   to  visit   Mr.    Edward    Noel,    at   Bishop 
Steignton,    in    Devonshire.       Mrs.    Bray    had 
some   slight   illness    there,    and    Miss    Evans 
writes  :  — 
Letter  to      I  am  grieved  indeed  if  anything  might  have  been 
Heuueu,       Written,  which  has  not  been  written,  to  allay  your 
i85if"^'       anxiety   about   Cara.       Her    letter   yesterday    ex- 
plained what  has  been  the  matter.     I  knew  her 
own  handwriting  would  be  pleasanter  to  you  than 
any  other.      I  have  been  talking  to  her  this  morn- 
ing about  the  going  to  London  or  to  Eosehill.     She 
seems  to  prefer  London.     A  glance  or  two  at  the 
Exposition,  she   thinks,   would   do  her  no  harm. 
To-day    we   are    all   going   to   Teignmouth.      She 
seems  to  like   the  idea  of  sitting  by  the  waves. 
The  sun  is  shining  gloriously,  and  all  things  are 
tolerably  promising.     I  am  going  to  walk  on  before 
the  rest  and  have  a  bath. 

They  went  to  London  on  the  1.3th  of  August, 
saw  the  Crystal  Palace,  and  returned  to  Rose- 
hill  on  the  16th.  At  the  end  of  that  month, 
Mr.  George  Combe  (the  distinguished  phrenolo- 
gist) arrived  on  a  visit,  and  he  and  Mrs.  Combe 
became  good  friends  to  Miss  Evans,  as  will 
be  seen  from  the  subsequent  correspondence. 
They  came  on  a  second  visit  to  Rosehill  the 
following  month,  —  Mr.  Chapman  being  also 
in  the  house  at  the  same  time,  —  and  at  the 
end  of  September  Miss  Evans  went  to  stay  with 
the  Chapmans  at  No.  142  Strand,  as  a  boarder, 
and  as  assistant  editor  of  the  "  Westminster 
Review. "     A  new  period  now  opens  in  George 


1851.]      Assistant  Editor  of  "  Westminster."        195 

Eliot's  life,    and  emphatically  the   most   im- 
portant period,  for  now  she  is  to  be  thrown  in 
contact  with  Mr.  Lewes,  who  is  to  exercise  so 
paramount  an  influence  on  all  her  future,  with 
Mr.   Herbert   Spencer,   and  with   a   number  of 
writers  then  representing  the  most  fearless  and 
advanced  thought  of  the  day.      Miss  Frederica 
Bremer,  the  authoress,  was  also  boarding  with 
the  Chapmans  at  this  time,  as  will  be  seen  from 
the  following  letters  :  — 
Mr.   Mackay  has  been  very  kind   in  coming  and  Letter  to  the 
walking  out  with  me,  and  that  is  the  only  variety  feprissf."^ 
I  have  had.       Last    night,    however,    we  had    an 
agreeable  enough  gathering.      Foxton  ^  came,  who, 
you  know,  is  trying,  with  Carlyle  and  others,  to 
get  a  chapel  for  Wilson  at  the   West    End,  —  in 
which  he  is  to  figure  as  a  seceding  clergyman.     I 
enclose  you   two   notes  from    Empson    (he   is   the 
editor  of  the  "  Edinburgh  Review  ")  as  a  guarantee 
that  I  have  been  trying  to  work.      Again,  I  pro- 
posed to  write  a  review  of  Greg  for  the  "  Westmin- 
ster," not  for  money,  but  for  love  of  the  subject  as 
connected  with  the  "  Inquiry. "     Mr.   Hickson  re- 
ferred the  matter  to   Slack  again,   and  he  writes 
that  he  shall  not  have  room  for  it,  and  that  the 
subject  will  not  suit  on  this  occasion,  so  you  see  I 
am  obliged  to  be  idle,  and  I  like  it  best.     I  hope 
Mr.   Bray  is  coming  soon  to  tell   me  everything 
about  you.     I  think  I  shall  cry  for  joy  to  see  him. 
But  do  send  me  a  little  note  on  Monday  morning. 
Mrs.  Follen  called  the  other  day  in  extreme  horror 
at  Miss  Martineau's  book. 

Dr.    Brabant  returned  to  Bath   yesterday.     He  LettertoMr 

"^  •'  Bray,  end  of 

1  Frederick  Foxton,  author  of  "  Popular  Christianity  :  its  Tran-    ®^  ' 
sition  State  and  Probable  Development." 


196  George  Henry  Lewes.      [142  strand, 

Letter  to  very  politely  took  me  to  the  Crystal  Palace,  the 
end  oT^'  theatre,  and  the  Overland  Koute.  On  Friday  we 
^^^'  '  had  Foxton,  Wilson,  and  some  other  nice  people, 
among  others  a  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  who  has  just 
brought  out  a  large  work  on  "  Social  Statics, "  which 
Lewes  pronounces  the  best  book  he  has  seen  on  the 
subject.  You  must  see  the  book  if  possible.  Mr. 
Chapman  is  going  to  send  you  Miss  Martineau's 
work,  or  rather  Mr.  Atkinson 's,i  which  you  must 
review  in  the  "  Herald. "  Whatever  else  one  may 
think  of  the  book,  it  is  certainly  the  boldest  I 
have  seen  in  the  English  language.  I  get  nothing 
done  here,  there  are  so  many  distractions,  —  more- 
over I  have  hardly  been  well  a  day  since  I  came. 
I  wish  I  were  rich  enough  to  go  to  the  coast,  and 
have  some  plunges  in  the  sea  to  brace  me.  Never- 
theless do  not  suppose  that  I  don't  enjoy  being 
here.  I  like  seeing  the  new  people,  &c. ,  and  I  am 
afraid  I  shall  think  the  country  rather  dull  after 
it.  I  am  in  a  hurry  to-day.  I  must  have  two 
hours' work  before  dinner;  so  imagine  everything 
I  have  not  said,  or  rather  reflect  that  this  scrap  is 
quite  as  much  as  you  deserve  after  being  so  slow 
to  write  to  me. 

The  reference,  in  the  above  letter,  to  Mr. 
Lewes  must  not  be  taken  as  indicating  personal 
acquaintance  yet.  It  is  only  a  quotation  of 
some  opinion  heard  or  read.  Mr.  Lewes  had 
already  secured  for  himself  a  wide  reputation 
in  the  literary  world  by  his  "  Biographical 
History  of  Philosophy,"  his  two  novels,  "  Ean- 
thorpe, "  and  "  Rose,  Blanche,  and  Violet,  "  —  all 
of  which  had  been  published  five  or  six  years 
before,  —  and  his  voluminous  contributions  to 

1  "  Man's  Nature  and  Development,"  by  Martineau  and  Atkinson. 


1851.]  Article  Writers.  197 

the  periodical  literature  of  the  day.     He  was 
also  at   this  time   the   literary  editor   of   the 
"  Leader  "  newspaper,  so  that  any  criticism  of 
his  would  carry  weight  and  be  talked   about. 
Much  has  already  been  written  about  his  extra- 
ordinary versatility,  the  variety  of  his  literary 
productions,  his  social  charms,  his  talent  as  a 
raconteur,   and   his    dramatic   faculty ;   and  it 
will  now  be  interesting,  for  those  who  did  not 
know  him  personally,  to  learn  the  deeper  side 
of  his  character,    which  will  be  seen,  in  its 
development,  in  the  following  pages. 
I  don't  know  how  long  Miss  Bremer  will  stay,  but  Letter  to 
you  need  not  wish  to  see  her.     She  is  to  me  equally  end  or^' 
unprepossessing  to  eye  and  ear.     I  never  saw  a  ^^'^^'  ^^^' 
person  of  her  years  who  appealed  less  to  my  purely 
instinctive  veneration.       I  have   to   reflect  every 
time  I  look  at  her  that  she  is  really  Frederica 
Bremer. 

Fox  is  to  write  the  article  on  the  Suffrage,  and 
we  are  going  to  try  Carlyle  for  the  Peerage,  Ward 
refusing  on  the  ground  that  he  thinks  the  improve- 
ment of  the  physical  condition  of  the  people  so 
all-important  that  he  must  give  all  his  energies 
to  that.  He  says,  "  Life  is  a  bad  business,  but  we 
must  make  the  best  of  it;  "  to  which  philosophy  I 
say  Amen.  Dr.  Hodgson  is  gone,  and  all  the  fun 
with  him. 

I  was  introduced  to  Lewes  the  other  day  in 
Jeff's  shop,  —  a  sort  of  miniature  Mirabeau  in 
appearance.^ 

'^  This  was  a  merely  formal  and  casual  introduction.  That 
George  Eliot  was  ever  brought  into  close  relations  with  Mr. 
Lewes  was  due  to  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  having  taken  him  to  call 
on  her  in  the  Strand  later  in  this  year. 


198  Carlijle's  "  Life  of  Sterling."      [142  strand 

Lettertothe  Professoi'  Toibes  IS  to  Write  us  a  capital  scieu 
Octf^issi.  tific  article,  whereat  I  rejoice  greatly.  The  Peerage 
apparently  will  not  "  get  itself  done, "  as  Carlyle 
says.  It  is  not  an  urgent  question,  nor  does  one 
see  that,  if  the  undue  influence  of  the  Peers  on  the 
elections  for  the  Commons  were  done  away  with, 
there  would  be  much  mischief  from  the  House  of 
Lords  remaining  for  some  time  longer  in  statu  quo. 
I  have  been  reading  Carlyle 's  "  Life  of  Sterling" 
with  great  pleasure,  —  not  for  its  presentation 
of  Sterling,  but  of  Carlyle.  There  are  racy  bits 
of  description  in  his  best  manner,  and  exquisite 
touches  of  feeling.  Little  rapid  characterisations 
of  living  men  too,  — of  Francis  Newman,  for  exam- 
ple, —  "a  man  of  fine  university  and  other  attain- 
ments, of  the  sharpest  cutting,  and  most  restlessly 
advancing  intellect,  and  of  the  mildest  pious  en- 
thusiasm."  There  is  an  inimitable  description  of 
Coleridge  and  his  eternal  monologue,  —  "  To  sit  as 
a  passive  bucket  and  be  pumped  into,  whether  one 
like  it  or  not,  can  in  the  end  be  exhilarating  to  no 
creature. " 
Letter  to  All  the  world  is  doing  its  devoir  to  the   great 

Miss  Sara         .._  ,  ,-i,«-.  t-v  \  x  ij_ji 

Henneii,  little  authorcss  {Miss  Bremer).  I  went  to  the 
1851,  " '  Exhibition  on  Satnrday  to  hear  the  final  "God 
save  the  Queen  "  and  the  three  times  three,  — 
"  C'(^tait  uu  beau  moment. "  Mr.  Greg  thought 
the  review  "well  done,  and  in  a  kindly  spirit," 
but  thought  there  was  not  much  in  it,  —  dread- 
fully true,  since  there  was  only  all  his  book.  I 
think  he  did  not  like  the  apology  for  his  want  of 
theological  learning,  which,  however,  was  just 
the  thing  most  needed,  for  the  "  Eclectic  "  trips 
him  up  on  that  score.  Carlyle  was  very  amusing 
the  other    morning    to    Mr.   Chapman    about  the 


1851.]  Mr.  Machay.  199 

Exhibition.     He  has  no  patience  with  the  Prince  tetter  to 
and    "  that  Cole "    assembling    Sawneys    from    all  Henneu, 
parts  of  the  land,  till  you  can't  get  along  Picca-  I'ssi. 
dilly.     He  has   been  worn    to   death    with    bores 
all  summer,  who  present  themselves  by  twos  and 
threes    in    his    study,    saying,    "  Here    we    are, " 
&c.,  &c. 

I  wish  you  could  see  Miss  Bremer's  albums,  full  Letter  to 
of  portraits,  flowers,  and  landscapes,  all  done  by  Hemien^* 
herself.  A  portrait  of  Emerson,  marvellously  isoi.^'^'' 
like ;  one  of  Jenny  Lind,  &c.  Last  night  we  had 
quite  a  charming  soiree,  —  Sir  David  Brewster  and 
his  daughter ;  Mackay,  author  of  a  work  on  popu- 
lar education,  you  may  remember  to  have  seen 
reviewed  in  the  "  Leader;  "  the  Ellises,  the  Hodg- 
sons,  and  half-a-dozen  other  nice  people.  Miss 
Bremer  was  more  genial  than  I  have  seen  her,  — 
played  on  the  piano,  and  smiled  benevolently. 
Altogether,  I  am  beginning  to  repent  of  my  repug- 
nance. Mackay  approves  our  prospectus  in  toto. 
He  is  a  handsome,  fine-headed  man,  and  a  "  good 
opinion.  "  We  are  getting  out  a  circular  to  accom- 
pany the  prospectus.  I  have  been  kept  downstairs 
by  Mr.  Mackay  for  the  last  two  hours,  and  am 
hurried,  but  it  was  a  necessity  to  write  ein  paar 
Worte  to  you.  Mr.  Mackay  has  written  an  account 
of  his  book  for  the  catalogue.  I  have  been  using 
my  powers  of  eloquence  and  flattery  this  morning 
to  make  him  begin  an  article  on  the  "  Development 
of  Protestantism. "  Mr.  Ellis  was  agreeable,  — 
really  witty.  He  and  Mrs.  Ellis  particularly  cor- 
dial to  me,  inviting  me  to  visit  them  without 
ceremony.  I  love  you  all  better  every  day,  and 
better  the  more  I  see  of  other  people.  I  am  going 
to  one  of  the  Birkbeck  schools. 


200  Martineau  and  Newman.     [142  strand, 

Letter  to  I  must  tell  jou  a  story  Miss  Bremer  got  from 

Hemieur3d  Emerson.  Carlyle  was  very  angry  with  him  for 
ov.  1801.  ^^^  believing  in  a  devil,  and  to  convert  him  took 
him  amongst  all  the  horrors  of  London,  —  the  gin- 
shops,  &c. ,  —  and  finally  to  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, plying  him  at  every  turn  with  the  question, 
"Do  you  believe  in  a  devil  noo?"  There  is  a 
severe  attack  on  Carlyle 's  "  Life  of  Sterling  "  in 
yesterday's  "  Times,  "  —  unfair  as  an  account  of  the 
book,  but  with  some  truth  in  its  general  remarks 
about  Carlyle.  There  is  an  article,  evidently  by 
James  Martineau,  in  the  "  Prospective, "  which  you 
must  read,  "  On  the  Unity  of  the  Logical  and 
Intuitive  in  the  ultimate  grounds  of  Eeligious 
Belief.  "  I  am  reading  with  great  amusement  ( !) 
J.  H.  Newman's  "  Lectures  on  the  Position  of 
Catholics. "  They  are  full  of  clever  satire  and 
description.  My  table  is  groaning  with  books, 
and  I  have  done  very  little  with  them  yet,  but  I 
trust  in  my  star,  which  has  hitherto  helped  me,  to 
do  all  I  have  engaged  to  do.  Pray  remember  to 
send  the  MS.  translation  of  Schleiermacher's  little 
book,  and  also  the  book  itself. 
Lettertothe  Whcu  Mr.  Nocl  had  finished  his  farewell  visit 
Nov'!'i85i!^  to-day,  Mr.  Flower  was  announced,  so  my  morn- 
ing has  run  away  in  chat.  Time  wears,  and  I 
don't  get  on  so  fast  as  I  ought,  but  I  must  scribble 
a  word  or  two,  else  you  will  make  my  silence  an 
excuse  for  writing  me  no  word  of  yourselves.  I 
am  afraid  Mr.  Noel  and  Mr.  Bray  have  given  you 
a  poor  report  of  me.  The  last  two  days  I  have 
been  a  little  better,  but  I  hardly  think  existing 
arrangements  can  last  beyond  this  quarter.  Mr. 
Noel  says  Miss  L.  is  to  visit  you  at  Christmas.  I 
hope  that  is  a  mistake,  as  it  would  deprive  me  of 
my  hoped-for  rest  amongst  you. 


1851.]  Meets  Lewes  at  the  Theatre.  201 

On  Saturday  afternoon  came  Mr.  Spencer  to  ask  Letter  to 
Mr.  Chapman  and  me  to  go  to  the  theatre ;  so  I  Heunefr 
ended  the  day  in  a  godless  manner,    seeing  the  23d  Nov. 
"  Merry   Wives    of   Windsor. "       You    must    read  ^^^' 
Carlyle's  denunciation  of  the  opera,  published  in 
the  "  Keepsake  "  !      The  "  Examiner  "  quotes  it  at 
length.      I  send   you  the  enclosed  from    Harriet 
Martineau.      Please    to  return  it.      The  one   from 
Carlyle   you   may   keep    till    I   come.       He   is   a 
naughty  fellow  to  write  in  the  "  Keepsake,"  and  not 
for  us,  after  I  wrote  him  the  most  insinuating  let- 
ter, offering  him  three  glorious  subjects.      Yester- 
day we  went  to  Mr.  Mackay's,  Dr.  Brabant  being 
there. 

Carlyle  called    the  other   day,  strongly   recom-  Letter  to 
mending  Browning,   the  poet,  as  a  writer  for  the  ^Tth^Nov?^' 
"  Eeview, "  and  saying,  "  We  shall  see,"  about  him-  ^^^' 
self.     In  other  respects  we  have  been  stagnating 
since  Monday,  and  now  I  must  work,  work,  work, 
which  I  have  scarcely  done  two  days  consecutively 
since  I  have  been  here.      Lewes  says  his  article  on 
"  Julia  von  Kriidener  "  ^  will  be  glorious.     He  sat 
in  the  same  box  with  us  at  the  "  Merry  Wives  of 
Windsor,"  and  helped  to  carry  off  the  dolorousuess 
of  the  play. 

Alas!   the  work  is  so  heavy  just  for   the  next  Letter tothe 
three  days,  all  the  revises  being  yet  to  come  in,  dayf2bd"^^ 
and  the  proof  of  my  own  article ;  ^  and  Mr.  Chap- 
man is  so  overwhelmed  with    matters    of   detail, 
that  he  has  earnestly  requested  me   to  stay  till 
Saturday,  and  I  cannot  refuse,  but  it  is  a  deep  dis- 

1  Appeared  in  January,  1852,  No.  of  the  "Westminster  Eeview," 
No.  1  of  the  New  Series. 

2  Review  of  Carlyle's  "  Life  of   Sterling  "  in  "  Westminster," 
Jan.  1852. 


202 


Visit  to  Eosehill. 


[142 


STRAND 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Bray, 
12th  Jan. 

1852. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
2l8t  Jan. 
1852, 


Letter  to  the  appointment  to  me.  My  heart  will  yearn  after 
fayf2M"'"  you  all.  It  is  tliG  fiist  Christmas  Day  I  shall 
Dec  1861.  i^g^YQ  passcd  without  any  Christmas  feeling.  On 
Saturday,  if  you  will  have  me,  nothing  shall  keep 
me  here  any  longer.  I  am  writing  at  a  high  table, 
on  a  low  seat,  in  a  great  hurry.  Don't  you  think 
my  style  is  editorial  ? 

Accordingly,  on  Saturday,  the  29th  December, 
1851,  she  did  go  down  to  Eosehill,  and  stayed 
there  till  12th  January,  when  she  returned  to 
London,  and  writes :  — 
I  had  a  comfortable  journey  all  alone,  except  from 
Weedon  to  Ellsworth.  When  I  saw  a  coated  ani- 
mal getting  into  my  carriage,  I  thought  of  all  hor- 
rible stories  of  madmen  in  railways ;  but  his  white 
neckcloth  and  thin  mincing  voice  soon  convinced 
me  that  he  was  one  of  those  exceedingly  tame  ani- 
mals, the  clergy. 

A  kind  welcome  and  a  good  dinner,  —  that  is  the 
whole  of  my  history  at  present.  I  am  in  anything 
but  company  trim,  or  spirits.  I  can  do  nothing  in 
return  for  all  your  kindness,  dear  Cara,  but  love 
you,  as  I  do  most  heartily.  You  and  all  yours,  for 
their  own  sake  first,  but  if  it  were  not  so,  for  yours. 
Harriet  Martineau  called  on  Monday  morning 
with  Mr.  Atkinson.  Very  kind  and  cordial.  I 
honour  her  for  her  powers  and  industry,  and  should 
be  glad  to  think  highly  of  her.  I  have  no  doul)t 
that  she  is  fascinating  when  there  is  time  for  talk. 
We  have  had  two  agreeable  soirees.  Last  Monday 
I  was  talking  and  listening  for  two  hours  to  Pierre 
Leroux,  —  a  dreamy  genius.  He  was  expounding 
to  me  his  ideas.  He  belongs  neither  to  the  school 
of  Proudhon,  which  represents  Liberty  only,  —  nor 
to  that  of  Louis  Blanc,  which  represents  Equality 


1852.J  Pierre  Lerouxs  llieories.  203 

only,  —  nor  to  that  of  Cabet,  which  represents  Fra-  Letter  to 
ilernity.  Pierre  Leroux's  system  is  the  syntkese  Henueu^ 
which  combines  all  three.  He  has  found  tlie  true  issa.''*^ 
pord  which  is  to  unite  the  love  of  self  with  the  love 
of  one's  neighbour.  He  is,  you  know,  a  very  volu- 
minous writer.  George  Sand  has  dedicated  some 
of  her  books  to  him.  He  dilated  on  his  views  of 
the  "  Origin  of  Christianity."  Strauss  deficient,  be- 
cause he  has  not  shown  the  identity  of  the  teaching 
of  Jesus  with  that  of  the  Essenes.  This  is  Leroux's 
favourite  idea.  I  told  him  of  your  brother.  He, 
moreover,  traces  Essenism  back  to  Egypt,  and  thence 
to  India,  —  the  cradle  of  all  religions,  &c.,  &c.,  with 
much  more,  which  he  uttered  with  an  unction 
rather  amusing  in  a  soiree  tete-a-tete.  "Est-ce  que 
nous  sommes  faits  pour  chercher  le  bonheur  ?  Est- 
ce  la  votre  id^e  —  dites  moi."  "  Mais  non,  —  nous 
sommes  faits,  je  pense,  pour  nous  d^velopper  le 
plus  possible."  "  Ah !  c'est  ca."  He  is  in  utter 
poverty,  going  to  lecture,  —  autrement  ilfaut  mourir. 
Has  a  wife  and  children  with  him.  He  came  to 
London  in  his  early  days,  when  he  was  twenty-five, 
—  to  find  work  as  a  printer.  All  the  world  was  in 
mourning  for  the  Princess  Charlotte.  "  Et  moi,  je 
me  trouvais  avoir  un  habit  vert-pomme."  So  he 
got  no  work ;  went  back  to  Paris  ;  by  hook  or  by 
crook  founded  the  "Globe"  journal;  knew  St. 
Simon ;  disagrees  with  him  entirely,  as  with  all 
other  theorists  except  Pierre  Leroux. 

We  are  trying  Mazzini  to  write  on  "  Freedom  v. 
Despotism,"  and  have  received  an  admirable  article 
on  "  The  New  Puritanism,"  ^  i.  e.,  "  Physical  Puri- 
tanism," from  Dr.  Brown,  the  chemist,  of  Edin- 
burgh, which,  I  think,  will  go  in  the  next  number. 

1  Published  iu  the  April,  1852,  number  of  the  "Westminster." 


Letter  to 


204     Acquaintance  vnth  Miss  Parkes.     [142  strand, 

_ I  am  in  a  miserable   state  of   languor  and  low 

Hennetr  spirits,  in  which  everything  is  a  trouble  to  nie.  I 
21st  Jan.  must  tell  you  a  bit  of  Louis  Blanc's  English,  which 
Mr.  Spencer  was  reciting  the  other  night.  The 
petit  homme  called  on  some  one,  and  said,  "  I  come 
to  tell  you  how  you  are.  I  was  at  you  the  other 
day,  but  you  were  not." 
Letter  to  the  We  wcut  to  quitc  a  gay  party  at  Mrs.  Mackay's 
febri'ss'i  on  Saturday.  Good  Mr.  Mackay  has  been  taking 
trouble  to  get  me  to  Hastings  for  my  health,  —  call- 
ing on  Miss  Fellowes,  daughter  of  the  "  Eeligion  of 
the  Universe,"  and  inducing  her  to  write  me  a  note 
of  invitation.  Sara  will  be  heartily  welcome.  Un- 
fortunately I  had  an  invitation  to  the  Parkes',  to 
meet  Cobden  on  Saturday  evening.  I  was  sorry  to 
miss  that.  Miss  Parkes  ^  is  a  dear,  ardent,  honest 
creature ;  and  I  hope  we  shall  be  good  friends.  I 
have  nothing  else  to  tell  you.  I  am  steeped  in  dul- 
ness  within  and  without.  Heaven  send  some  lions 
to-night  to  meet  Pox,  who  is  coming.  An  adver- 
tisement we  found  in  the  "  Times  "  to-day,  —  "  To 
gentlemen.  A  converted  medical  man,  of  gentle- 
manly habits  and  fond  of  Scriptural  conversation, 
wishes  to  meet  with  a  gentleman  of  Calvinistic 
views,  thirsty  after  truth,  in  want  of  a  daily  com- 
panion. A  little  temporal  aid  will  be  expected  in 
return.  Address,  Verax"! 
letter  to  We  are  going  to  Mr.  Ellis's,  at  Champion  Hill, 

Mrs  Bray,    to-morrow  cvcniug.     I  am  better  now.     Have  rid 

8th  Feb.  »    n  1  1  ,        •  j_ 

1852.  myself  of  all  distasteful  work,  and  am  trying  to 

love  the  glorious  destination  of  humanity,  look- 
ing before  and  after.  We  shall  be  glad  to  have 
Sara. 

1  Now  Madame  Belloc,  who  remained  to  the  end  one  of  George 
Eliot's  closest  friends. 


1852.]         Acquaintance  with  3Irs.  Taylor.  205 

Miss  Sara  Hennell  arrived  on  a  visit  to  the 
Strand    next    day  —  the    9th    February  —  and 
stayed  till  the  17th. 
I  have  not  merely  had  a  headache,  —  I  have  heen  LettertoMt 
really  ill,  and  feel  very  much  shattered.     We  (Miss  Kebf'isoL 
Evans  and  Miss  Sara  Hennell)  dined  yesterday  at 
Mrs.  Peter  Taylor's,^  at  Sydenham.     I  was  not  fit 
to  go,  especially  to  make  my  debut  at  a  strange 
place ;  but  the  country  air  was  a  temptation.     The 
thick   of   the  work   is   just   beginning,  and   I   am 
bound  in  honour  not  to  run  away  from  it,  as  I  have 
shirked  all  labour  but  what  is  strictly  editorial  this 
quarter. 

We  went  to  the  meeting  of  the  Association  for  Letter  to 
the  Abolition  of  the  Taxes  on  Knowledge  on  2nth"Feb. ' 
Wednesday,  that  I  might  hear  Cobden,  in  whom  I 
was  wofully  disappointed.  George  Dawson's  speech 
was  admirable.  I  think  it  undesirable  to  fix  on  a 
London  residence  at  present,  as  I  want  to  go  to 
Brighton  for  a  month  or  two  next  quarter.  I  am 
seriously  concerned  at  my  languid  body,  and  feel 
the  necessity  of  taking  some  measures  to  get  vigour. 
Lewes  inquired  for  Sara  last  Monday  in  a  tone  of 
interest.  He  was  charmed  with  her,  as  who  would 
not  be  that  has  any  taste  ?  Do  write  to  me,  dear 
Cara ;  I  want  comforting :  this  world  looks  ugly 
just  now  ;  all  people  rather  worse  than  I  have  been 
used  to  think  them.  Put  me  in  love  with  my  kind 
again,  by  giving  me  a  glimpse  of  your  own  inward 
self,  since  I  cannot  see  the  outer  one. 

1  Mrs.  Peter  Taylor  remained  a  lifelong  and  a  valued  friend  of 
George  Eliot's,  and  many  interesting  letters  in  these  volumes  are 
addressed  to  her.  I  am  glad  also  to  take  this  opportunity  of  ex- 
pressing my  thanks  to  her  for  obtaining  for  me  two  other  sets  of 
correspondence,  —  the  letters  addressed  to  Mrs.  Beecher  Stowe 
and  to  Mrs.  William  Smith. 


206  Offers  of  Music.  [142  strand, 

Mr"^mr         ^  ^^^  sympathise  with  you  in  your  troubles,  hav- 

Tayior,  Gto    ing  been  a  housekeeper  myself,  and  known  disap- 

*"  '     "■  pointment  in  trusted  servants.     Ah,  well !  we  have 

a  good  share  of  the  benefits  of  our  civilisation ;  it  is 

but  fair  that  we  should  feel  some  of  the  burthen  of 

its  imperfections. 

Thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  wishing  to  see 
me  again.  I  should  really  like  to  see  you  in  your 
own  nice,  fresh,  healthy-looking  home  again ;  but 
until  the  end  of  March  I  fear  I  shall  be  a  prisoner 
from  the  necessity  for  constant  work.  Still  it  is 
possible  that  I  may  have  a  day,  though  I  am  quite 
unable  to  say  when. 

You  will  be  still  more  surprised  at  the  notice  of 
the  "Westminster"  in  "The  People,"  when  you 
know  that  Maccall  himself  wrote  it.  I  have  not 
seen  it,  but  had  been  told  of  its  ill-nature.  However, 
he  is  too  good  a  man  to  write  otherwise  than  sin- 
cerely ;  and  our  opinion  of  a  book  often  depends  on 
the  state  of  the  liver  ! 
tetter  to  I  had  two  offcrs   last   night,  —  not   of   marriage, 

25th  March,  but  of  music,  —  wMch  I  find  it  impossible  to  resist. 
Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  proposed  to  take  me  on  Thurs- 
day to  hear  "William  Tell,"  and  Miss  Parkes  asked 
me  to  go  with  her  to  hear  the  "  Creation "  on  Fri- 
day. I  have  had  so  little  music  this  quarter,  and 
these  two  things  are  so  exactly  what  I  should  like, 
that  I  have  determined  to  put  off,  for  the  sake  of 
them,  my  other  pleasure  of  seeing  you.  So,  pray, 
keep  your  precious  welcome  warm  for  me  until 
Saturday,  when  I  shall  positively  set  off  by  the 
two  o'clock  train.  Harriet  Martineau  has  written 
me  a  most  cordial  invitation  to  go  to  see  her  before 
July,  but  that  is  impossible. 


1852, 


J852.]  Heljp  in  Despondency.  207 

I  am  grieved  to  find  that  you  have  to  pay  for  Letter  to 
that  fine  temperament  of  yours  in  attacks  of  neu-  Tayiorf27'th 
ralgia.  Your  silence  did  not  surprise  me,  after  the  ^"'^^'  ^^"^ 
account  you  had  given  me  of  your  domestic  cir- 
cumstances, but  I  have  wished  for  you  on  Monday 
evenings.  Your  cordial  assurance  that  you  shall 
be  glad  to  see  me  sometimes  is  one  of  those  pleas- 
ant things  —  those  life-preservers  —  which  relent- 
ing destiny  sends  me  now  and  then  to  buoy  me  up. 
For  you  must  know  that  I  am  not  a  little  despond- 
ing now  and  then,  and  think  that  old  friends  will 
die  off,  while  I  shall  be  left  without  the  power  to 
make  new  ones.  You  know  how  sad  one  feels 
when  a  great  procession  has  swept  by  one,  and  the 
last  notes  of  its  music  have  died  away,  leaving  one 
alone  with  the  fields  and  sky.  I  feel  so  about  life 
sometimes.  It  is  a  help  to  read  such  a  life  as  Mar- 
garet Fuller's.  How  inexpressibly  touching  that 
passage  from  her  journal,  —  "I  shall  always  reign 
through  the  intellect,  but  the  life  !  the  life  !  0  my 
God !  shall  that  never  be  sweet  ?  "  I  am  thankful, 
as  if  for  myself,  that  it  was  sweet  at  last.  But 
I  am  running  on  about  feelings  when  I  ought  to 
tell  you  facts.  I  am  going  on  Wednesday  to  my 
friends  in  Warwickshire  for  about  ten  days  or  a 
fortnight.  When  I  come  back,  I  hope  you  will  be 
quite  strong  and  able  to  receive  visitors  without 
effort,  —  Mr.  Taylor  too. 

I  did  go  to  the  conversazione ;  but  you  have  less 
to  regret  than  you  think.  Mazzini's  speeches  are 
better  read  than  heard.  Proofs  are  come  demand- 
ing my  immediate  attention,  so  I  must  end  this 
hasty  scribble. 

On  the  3d  April  Miss  Evans  went  to  Eosehill,  and 
stayed  till  the  14th.     On  her  return  she  writes ; 


208  Friendship  for  Mrs.  Hennell.     [142  strand, 

Letter  to      There  was  an  article  on  the  bookselling  affair  in  the 

Air.  Brav  . 

iTtii  April,  "  Times  "  of  yesterday,  which  must  be  the  knell  of 
the  Association.  Dickens  is  to  preside  at  a  meeting 
in  this  house  on  the  subject  some  day  next  week. 
The  opinions  on  the  various  articles  in  the  "  Keview  " 
are,  as  before,  ridiculously  various.  The  "  Econo- 
mist" calls  the  article  on  Quakerism  "admirably 
written."  Greg  says  the  article  on  India  is  "  very 
masterly;"  while  he  calls  Mazzini's  "sad  stuff, — 
mere  verbiage." 
Letter  to  If  there  is  any  change  in  my  affection  for  you,  it 

Heimeii,  is  that  I  lovc  you  more  than  ever,  not  less.  I  have 
1852.  ^"'  as  perfect  a  friendship  for  you  as  my  imperfect 
nature  can  feel,  —  a  friendship  in  which  deep  re- 
spect and  admiration  are  sweetened  by  a  sort  of 
flesh-and-blood  sisterly  feeling  and  the  happy  con- 
sciousness that  I  have  your  affection,  however  un- 
deservedly, in  return.  I  have  confidence  that  this 
friendship  can  never  be  shaken  ;  that  it  must  last 
while  I  last,  and  that  the  supposition  of  its  ever 
being  weakened  by  a  momentary  irritation  is  too 
contemptibly  absurd  for  me  to  take  the  trouble  to 
deny  it.  As  to  your  whole  conduct  to  me,  from 
the  first  day  I  knew  you,  it  has  been  so  generous 
and  sympathetic  that  if  I  did  not  heartily  love 
you,  I  should  feel  deep  gratitude,  —  but  love  ex- 
cludes gratitude.  It  is  impossible  that  I  should 
ever  love  two  women  better  than  I  love  you  and 
Cara.  Indeed  it  seems  to  me  that  I  can  never 
love  any  so  well ;  and  it  is  certain  that  I  can  never 
have  any  friend  —  not  even  a  husband  —  who 
would  supply  the  loss  of  those  associations  with 
the  past  which  belong  to  you.  Do  believe  in  my 
love  for  you,  and  that  it  will  remain  as  long  as  I 
have  my  senses,  because  it  is  interwoven  with  my 


1852.]         Intimacy  ivith  Herbert  Spencer.  209 

best  nature,  and  is  dependent  not  on  any  accidents 
of  manner  but  on  long  experience,  which  has  con- 
firmed the  instinctive  attraction  of  earlier  days. 

Our  fortunes  here  are  as  usual  chequered, —  Letter  to  the 

Brays,  'J^iA 
"  Twist  ye,  twine  ye,  even  so  '^^'■"'  ^'*^-- 

Mingle  human  weal  and  woe." 

Grote  is  very  friendly,  and  has  propitiated  J.  S. 
Mill,  who  will  write  for  us  when  we  want  him. 
We  had  quite  a  brilliant  soiree  yesterday  evening, 
W.  E.  Greg,  Forster  (of  Eawdon),  Francis  New- 
man, the  Ellises,  and  Louis  Blanc  were  the  stars 
of  greatest  magnitude.  I  had  a  pleasant  talk  with 
Greg  and  Forster.  Greg  was  "  much  pleased  to 
have  made  my  acquaintance."  Forster,  on  the 
whole,  appeared  to  think  that  people  should  be 
glad  to  make  his  acquaintance.  Greg  is  a  short 
man,  but  his  brain  is  large,  the  anterior  lobe  very 
fine,  and  a  moral  region  to  correspond.  Black, 
wiry,  curly  hair,  and  every  indication  of  a  first- 
rate  temperament.  We  have  some  very  nice  Amer- 
icans here,  —  the  Pughs,  friends  of  the  Parkes', 
really  refined,  intellectual  people.  Miss  Pngh,  an 
elderly  lady,  is  a  great  abolitionist,  and  was  one 
of  the  Women's  Convention  that  came  to  England 
in  1840,  and  was  not  allowed  to  join  the  Men's 
Convention.  But  I  suppose  we  shall  soon  be  able 
to  say,  nous  avons  change  toiit  cela. 

I  went  to  the  opera  on  Saturday,  — "I  Martiri," 
at  Covent  Garden,  —  with  my  "  excellent  friend, 
Herbert  Spencer,"  as  Lewes  calls  him.  We  have 
agreed  that  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not 
have  as  much  of  each  other's  society  as  we  like. 
He  is  a  good,  delightful  creature,  and  I  always 
feel  better  for  being  with  him. 

VOL.  L —  14 


210         Charles  Dickens  as  Chairman.     [142  strand, 

^t'ertothe  I  like  to  remind  you  of  me  on  Sunday  morning, 
May,  1852.  whcu  you  look  at  the  flowers  and  listen  to  music ; 
so  I  send  a  few  lines,  though  I  have  not  much 
time  to  spare  to-day.  After  Tuesday  I  will  write 
you  a  longer  letter,  and  tell  you  all  about  every- 
thing. I  am  going  to  the  opera  to-night  to  hear 
the  "  Huguenots. "  See  what  a  fine  thing  it  is  to 
pick  up  people  who  are  short-sighted  enough  to 
like  one ! 

On    the  4th   of  May   a  meeting,  consisting 
chiefly  of  authors,  was   held  at  the  house  in 
the  Strand,   for  the  purpose  of  hastening  the 
removal  of  the  trade  restrictions  on  the  Com- 
merce of  Literature,  and  it  is  thus  described  in 
the  following  letter  :  — 
Bray/ sth''^  ^^^  meeting  last  night  went  off  triumphantly,  and 
MaTi852.     I  saluted  Mr.  Chapman  with  "  See  the  Conquering 
Hero  comes"  on  the  piano  at  12  o'clock;  for  not 
until  then  was  the  last  magnate,  except  Herbert 
Spencer,  out  of  the  house.     I  sat  at  the  door  for  a 
short  time,  but  soon  got  a  chair  within  it,  and 
heard  and  saw  everything. 

Dickens  in  the  chair,  —  a  position  he  fills  re- 
markably well,  preserving  a  courteous  neutrality 
of  eyebrows,  and  speaking  with  clearness  and 
decision.  His  appearance  is  certainly  disappoint- 
ing, —  no  benevolence  in  the  face,  and,  I  think, 
little  in  the  head,  — the  anterior  lobe  not  by  any 
means  remarkable.  In  fact,  he  is  not  distin- 
guished looking  in  anyway, — neither  handsome 
nor  ugly,  neither  fat  nor  thin,  neither  tall  nor 
short.  Babbage  moved  the  first  resolution, — a 
bad  speaker,  but  a  great  authority.  Charles  Knight 
is  a  beautiful,  elderly  man,  with  a  modest  but 
firm  enunciation ;  and  he  made  a  wise  and  telling 


1852.]  Meeting  in  the  Strand.  211 

speech  which  silenced  one  or  two  vulgar,  ignorant  Letter  to  the 
booksellers  who  had  got  into  the  meeting  by  mis-  Ma"y,''i652. 
take.  One  of  these  began  by  complimenting 
Dickens,  ■ —  "  views  held  by  such  worthy  and  im- 
portant gentlemen,  which  is  your  worthy  person  in 
the  chair. "  Dickens  looked  respectfully  neutral. 
The  most  telling  speech  of  the  evening  was  Prof. 
Tom  Taylor's,  — •  as  witty  and  brilliant  as  one 
of  George  Dawson's.  Professor  Owen's,  too,  was 
remarkably  good.  He  had  a  resolution  to  move 
as  to  the  bad  effect  of  the  trade  restrictions  on 
scientific  works,  and  gave  his  own  experience  in 
illustration.  Speaking  of  the  slow  and  small  sale 
of  scientific  books  of  a  high  class,  he  said,  in  his 
silvery  bland  way,  alluding  to  the  boast  that  the 
retail  booksellers  recommended  the  works  of  less 
known  authors,  —  "  for  which  limited  sale  we  are 
doubtless  indebted  to  the  kind  recommendation  of 
our  friends,  the  retail  booksellers,"  —  whereupon 
these  worthies,  taking  it  for  a  bond  fide  compli- 
ment, cheered  enthusiastically.  Dr.  Lankester, 
Prof.  Newman,  Eobert  Bell,  and  others  spoke 
well.  Owen  has  a  tremendous  head,  and  looked, 
as  he  was,  the  greatest  celebrity  of  the  meeting. 
George  Cruikshank,  too,  made  a  capital  speech  in 
an  admirable  moral  spirit.  He  is  the  most  homely, 
genuine-looking  man,  not  unlike  the  pictures  of 
Captain  Cuttle. 

I  went  to  hear  the  "  Huguenots  "  on  Saturday 
evening.  It  was  a  rich  treat.  Mario,  and  Grisi, 
and  Formes,  and  that  finest  of  orchestras  under 
Costa.  I  am  going  to  a  concert  to-night.  This  is 
all  very  fine,  but  in  the  meantime  I  am  getting  as 
haggard  as  an  old  witch  under  London  atmosphere 
and  influences.     I  shall  be  glad  to  have  sent  me 


212 


Dislike  of  Scrap-  Work.      [142  strand, 


Letter  to  the 
Brays,  Mon- 
day, 12th  (?) 
1852. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
27th  May, 

1852. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
Wednesday, 
2d  June, 
1852. 


my  Shakspeare,  Goethe,  Byron,  and  Wordsworth, 
if  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  take  the  trouble  of 
packing  them. 

My  days  have  slipt  away  in  a  most  mysterious 
fashion  lately, — chiefly,  I  suppose,  in  long  walks 
and  long  talks.  Our  Monday  evenings  are  dying 
off,  —  not  universally  regretted,  —  but  we  are  ex- 
pecting one  or  two  people  to-night.  I  have  noth- 
ing to  tell  except  that  I  went  to  the  opera  on 
Thursday,  and  heard  "  La  Juive, "  and,  moreover, 
fell  in  love  with  Prince  Albert,  who  was  unusually 
animated  and  prominent.  He  has  a  noble,  genial, 
intelligent  expression,  and  is  altogether  a  man  to 
be  proud  of.  I  am  going  next  Thursday  to  see  Grisi 
in  "  Norma. "  She  is  quite  beautiful  this  season, 
thinner  than  she  was,  and  really  younger  looking. 

My  brightest  spot,  next  to  my  love  of  old  friends, 
is  the  deliciously  calm  new  friendship  that  Herbert 
Spencer  gives  me.  We  see  each  other  every  day, 
and  have  a  delightful  cameraderie  in  everything. 
But  for  him  my  life  would  be  desolate  enough. 
What  a  wretched  lot  of  old  shrivelled  creatures  we 
shall  be  by-and-by  !  Never  mind,  —  the  uglier  we 
get  in  the  eyes  of  others,  the  lovelier  we  shall  be 
to  each  other ;  that  has  always  been  my  firm  faith 
about  friendship,  and  now  it  is  in  a  slight  degree 
my  experience.  Mme.  D 'Albert  has  sent  me  the 
sweetest  letter,  just  like  herself ;  and  I  feel  grate- 
ful to  have  such  a  heart  remembering  and  loving 
me  on  the  other  side  of  the  Jura.  They  are  very 
well  and  flourishing. 

I  am  bothered  to  death  with  article-reading  and 
scrap-work  of  all  sorts :  it  is  clear  my  poor  head 
will  never  produce  anything  under  these  circum- 
stances; hut  I  am  patient.     I  am  ashamed  to  tease 


1852.]        George  Comic  on  the  "  Westminster."      213 

you  so,  but  I  must  beg  of  you  to  send  me  George  Letter  to 
Sand's  works;  and  also  I  shall  be  grateful  if  you  hc^Lcu? 
will    lend    me,    what    I    think    you   \\^\Q, —nn^xfZt''^* 
English  edition  of  "  Corinne, "  and  Miss  Austen's  ^^" 
"Sense   and    Sensibility."      Harriet    Martineau's 
article  on  "  Niebuhr  "  will  not  go  in  the  July  num- 
ber.     I  am  sorry  for  it,  —  it  is  admirable.     After 
all,    she    is  a    trump,  —  the    only   Englishwoman 
that  possesses  thoroughly  the  art  of  writing. 

On  Thursday  morning  I  went  to  St.  Paul's  to 
see  the  Charity  children  assembled,  and  hear  their 
singing.  Berlioz  says  it  is  the  finest  thing  he  has 
heard  in  England ;  and  this  opinion  of  his  induced 
me  to  go.  I  was  not  disappointed,  —  it  is  worth 
doing  once,  especially  as  we  got  out  before  the 
sermon.  I  had  a  long  call  from  George  Combe 
yesterday.  He  says  he  thinks  the  "  Westminster, " 
under  my  management,  the  most  important  means 
of  enlightenment  of  a  literary  nature  in  exist- 
ence, —  the  "Edinburgh,"  under  Jeffrey,  nothing 
to  it,  &c.  ! ! !     I  wiVh  /  thought  so  too. 

Your  joint  assurance  of  welcome  strengthens  the  Lettertotho 
centripetal  force  that  would  carry  me  to  you;  but,  j^i^sB-l 
on  the  other  hand,  sundry  considerations  are  in 
favour  of  the  centrifugal  force,  which,  I  suppose, 
will  carry  me  to  Broadstairs  or  Eamsgate.  On  the 
whole,  I  prefer  to  keep  my  visit  to  you  as  a  lonne 
houche,  when  I  am  just  in  the  best  physical  and 
mental  state  for  enjoying  it.  I  hope  to  get  away 
on  Saturday,  or  on  Wednesday  at  the  latest.  I 
think  the  third  number  of  the  "  Eeview  "  will  be 
capital,  — thoroughly  readable,  and  yet  not  frothy. 

I   have  assured  Herbert  Spencer  that  you  will  Letter  to 

,        „  ,  J.       il        •       .;      Clms.  Bray, 

think  it  a  sufficiently  formal  answer  to  the  invi-  osd^ju^e, 
tation  you  sent  him  through  Mr.  Lewes,  if  I  tell  ^^- 


214 


Miss  B.  Smith. 


[142  STRAND, 


Letter  to 
Chas.  Bray, 
23d  June, 
1852. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hsnnell, 
25th  June, 
(■/)  1852. 


Letter  to 
tlie  Brays, 
end  of  June, 
1852. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
Friday 
morning,  2d 
July,  1852. 


you  that  he  will  prefer  waiting  for  the  pleasure 
of  a  visit  to  you  until  I  am  with  you,  —  if  you 
will  have  him  then,  I  spent  the  evening  at  Mr. 
Parkes's  on  Monday.  Yesterday  Herbert  Spencer 
brought  his  father  to  see  me,  —  a  large-brained, 
highly  informed  man,  with  a  certain  quaintness 
and  simplicity,   altogether  very  pleasing. 

After  all,  I  begin  to  hope  that  our  next  number 
will  be  the  best  yet.  Forbes  is  good.  Froude 
ditto;  and  James  Martineau,  if  I  may  judge  from 
a  glance  at  a  few  of  his  pages,  admirable.  Lewes 
has  written  us  an  agreeable  article  on  Lady  Novel- 
ists. There  is  a  mysterious  contribution  to  the 
Independent  section.  We  are  hoping  that  an 
article  on  Edinburgh  Literary  Men,  yet  to  come, 
will  be  very  good.  If  not,  we  shall  put  in 
Nhebuhr ;  it  is  capital. 

The  opera,  Chiswick  Flower  Show,  the  French 
play,  and  the  Lyceum,  all  in  one  week,  brought 
their  natural  consequences  of  headache  and  hyster- 
ics,— •  all  yesterday.  At  five  o'clock  I  felt  quite 
sure  that  life  was  unendurable.  This  morning, 
however,  the  weather  and  I  are  both  better,  hav- 
ing cried  ourselves  out  and  used  up  all  our  clouds ; 
and  I  can  even  contemplate  living  six  months 
longer.  Was  there  ever  anything  more  dreary 
than  this  June  ? 

I  am  busy  packing  to-day,  and  am  going  to  Mr. 
Parkes's  to  dinner.  Miss  Parkes  has  introduced 
me  to  Barbara  Smith, ^  whose  expression  I  like 
exceedingly,  and  hope  to  know  more  of  her.  I  go 
to  Broadstairs  on  Saturday.     I  am  sadly  in  want  of 


1  Afterwards  Madame  Bodichon,  —  one  of  the  three  or  four 
most  intimate  friends  of  George  Eliot,  whose  name  will  very 
often  appear  in  subsequent  pages. 


1852.]       Deliyht  with  Change  to  Bruadstairs.       215 

the  change,  and  would  much  rather  present  myself  to 
you  all  when  I  can  do  you  more  credit  as  a  friend. 

I  warn  you  against  Ramsgate,  which  is  a  strip  Letter  to 
of  London  come  out  for  an  airing.  Broadstairs  is  4u?juiy7' 
perfect;  and  I  have  the  snuggest  little  lodging  ^^'' 
conceivable,  with  a  motherly  good  woman  and  a 
nice  little  damsel  of  fourteen  to  wait  on  me.  There 
are  only  my  two  rooms  in  this  cottage,  but  lodg- 
ings are  plentiful  in  the  place.  I  have  a  sitting- 
room  about  8  feet  by  9,  and  a  bedroom  a  little 
larger;  yet  in  that  small  space  there  is  almost 
every  comfort.  I  pay  a  guinea  a  week  for  my 
rooms,  so  I  shall  not  ruin  myself  by  staying  a 
month,  unless  I  commit  excesses  in  cofiee  and 
sugar.  I  am  thinking  whether  it  would  not  be 
wise  to  retire  from  the  world  and  live  here  for  the 
rest  of  my  days  With  some  fresh  paper  on  the 
walls  and  an  easy-chair,  I  think  I  could  resign 
myself.     Come  and  tell  me  your  opinion. 

I  thought  of  you  last  night,  when  I  was  in  a    Letter  to 

^  .  /  ^       '  Miss  Sara 

state  of  mingled  rapture  and  torture,  — rapture  at    Henneii, 
the  sight  of  a  glorious  evening  sky,  torture  at  the    i852. 
sight  and  hearing  of  the  belabouring  given  to  the 
poor  donkey  which  was  drawing  me  from  Eamsgate 
home. 

I  had  a  note  from  Miss  Florence  Nightingale 
yesterday.  I  was  much  pleased  with  her.  There 
is  a  loftiness  of  mind  about  her  which  is  well 
expressed  by  her  form  and  manner.  Glad  you  are 
pleased  with  the  "Westminster."  I  do  think  it 
a  rich  number,  — matter  for  a  fortnight's  reading 
and  thought.  Lewes  has  not  half  done  it  justice 
in  the  "  Leader. "  To  my  mind  the  Niebuhr  article 
is  as  good  as  any  of  them.  If  you  could  see  me 
in  my  quiet  nook!     I  am  half  ashamed  of  being 


216         Deliglit  with  Change  of  Life,     [broadstairs 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
HenneO, 
luth  July, 
1&&2. 


Letter  to 
Clias.  Bray, 
21st  July, 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Bray, 
Tliursday, 
14th  (?) 
Aug.  1852. 


in  such  clover,  both  spiritually  and  materiallj* 
while  some  of  my  friends  are  on  the  dusty  high- 
ways, without  a  tuft  of  grass  or  a  flower  to  cheer 
them.  A  letter  from  you  will  be  delightfuL  We 
seem  to  have  said  very  little  to  each  other  lately. 
But  I  always  know  —  rejoice  to  know  —  that 
there  is  the  same  Sara  for  me  as  there  is  the  same 
green  earth  and  arched  sky,  when  I  am  good  and 
wise  enough  to  like  the  best  thing. 

Do  not  be  anxious  about  me,  —  there  is  no  cause. 
I  am  profiting,  body  and  mind,  from  quiet  walks 
and  talks  with  nature,  gathering  "  Lady's  Bed- 
straw  "  and  "  Rest-harrow, "  and  other  pretty 
things;  picking  up  shells  (not  in  the  Newtonian 
sense,  but  literally) ;  reading  Aristotle,  to  find  out 
what  is  the  chief  good ;  and  eating  mutton-chops, 
that  I  may  have  strength  to  pursue  it.  If  you 
insist  on  my  writing  about  "  Emotions, "  why,  I 
must  get  some  up  expressly  for  the  purpose.  But 
I  must  own  I  would  rather  not,  for  it  is  the  grand 
wish  and  object  of  my  life  to  get  rid  of  them  as 
far  as  possible,  seeing  they  have  already  had  more 
than  their  share  of  my  nervous  energy.  I  shall 
not  be  in  town  on  the  2d  of  August,  —  at  least  I 
pray  heaven  to  forbid  it. 

Mrs.   Bray  paid  a  visit  to  Broadstairs  from 

the  3d  to  the  12th  August,  and  the  next  letter 

is  addressed  to  her. 
Are  you  really  the  better  for  having  been  here  ? 
Since  you  left,  I  have  been  continually  regretting 
that  I  could  not  make  your  visit  pleasanter.  I 
was  irritable  and  out  of  sorts ;  but  you  have  an 
apparatus  for  secreting  happiness,  that  'sit.  Prov- 
idence, seeing  that  I  wanted  weaning  from  this 
place,  has  sent  a  swarm  of  harvest-bugs  and  lady- 


1852.]  Admiration  of  Ilawtliornc.  217 

birds.     These,  with  the  half-blank,  half-dissipated  Letterto 
feeling  which  comes  on  after  having  companions  Thurb^"^' 
and  losing  them,  make  me  think  of  returning  to  Aug/i852. 
London   on  Saturday  week  with  more  resignation 
than   I   have    felt   before.      I    am   very   well    and 
"  plucky,"  —  a  word  which  I  propose  to  substitute 
for  "  happy, "  as  more  truthful. 

For  the  last  two   months   I  have  been  at  this  Letterto 
pretty,   quiet   place,   which    "  David    Copperfield  "  xayiorf  mh 
has    made   classic,    far   away  from    London    noise  ^"^*  ^^^' 
and  smoke. 

I  am  sorry  now  that  I  brought  with  me  Fox's 
Lectures,  which  I  had  not  managed  to  read  before 
I  left  town.  But  I  shall  return  thither  at  the 
end  of  next  week,  and  I  will  at  once  forward  the 
volume  to  Gary  Lane. 

One  sees  no  novels  less  than  a  year  old  at  the 
sea-side,  so  I  am  unacquainted  with  the  "  Blitlie- 
dale  Eomance,"  except  through  the  reviews,  which 
have  whetted  my  curiosity  more  than  usual. 
Hawthorne  is  a  grand  favourite  of  mine,  and  I 
shall  be  sorry  if  he  do  not  go  on  surpassing  him- 
self. It  is  sad  to  hear  of  your  only  going  out  to 
consult  a  physician.  Illness  seems  to  me  the  one 
woe  for  which  there  is  no  comfort, — no  compen- 
sation. But  perhaps  you  find  it  otherwise,  for 
you  have  a  less  rebellious  spirit  than  I,  and  suffer- 
ing seems  to  make  you  look  all  the  more  gentle. 

Thinking  of  you  this  morning,  — as  I  often  do,  Letterto 

.11  i  -J.  «  1  Mrs.  Hough- 

though  you  may  not  suppose  so, — it  was     borne  ton,  22d 

in  on  my  mind  "  that  I  must  write  to  you,  and  I  ^"*"  ''^ 

obey  the  inspiration  without  waiting  to  consider 

whether  there  may  be  a  corresponding  desire  on 

your  part  to  hear  from  me.      I  live  in  a  world  of 

cares  and  joys,  so  remote  from  the  one  in  which 


218 


Return  to  London.  [142  strand, 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Hough- 
ton, 22d 
Aug.  1852. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
29th  Aug. 
1852. 


Lfttter  to 
Misa  Sara 
Heunell,  2d 
Sept  1852. 


we  used  to  sympathise  with  each  other,  that  I  find 
positive  communication  with  you  difficult.  But 
I  am  not  unfaithful  to  old  loves,  —  they  were  sin- 
cere, and  they  are  lasting.  I  hope  you  will  not 
think  it  too  much  trouble  to  write  me  a  little 
news  of  yourself.  I  want  very  much  to  know  if 
your  health  continues  good,  and  if  there  has  been 
any  change  in  your  circumstances,  that  I  may  have 
something  like  a  true  conception  of  you.  All  is 
well  with  me  so  far  as  my  individuality  is  con- 
cerned, —  but  I  have  plenty  of  friends'  troubles  to 
sorrow  over.  I  hope  you  have  none  to  add  to  the 
number. 

I  celebrated  my  return  to  London  by  the  usual 
observance,  —  that  is  to  say,  a  violent  headache, 
which  is  not  yet  gone,  and  of  course  I  am  in  the 
worst  spirits,  and  my  opinion  of  things  is  not 
worth  a  straw.  I  tell  you  this  that  you  may  know 
why  I  only  send  you  this  scrap  instead  of  the  long 
letter  which  I  have  in  petto  for  you,  and  which 
would  otherwise  have  been  written  yesterday. 

Somehow  my  letters  —  except  those  which  come 
under  the  inexorable  imperative  must  (the  "  ought  " 
I  manage  well  enough  to  shirk)  —  will  not  get 
written.  The  fact  is,  I  am  in  a  croaking  mood, 
and  I  am  waiting  and  waiting  for  it  to  pass  by ; 
so  if  my  pen  croaks  in  spite  of  my  resolutions  to 
the  contrary,  please  to  take  no  notice  of  it.  Ever 
since  I  came  back,  I  have  felt  something  like  the 
madness  which  imagines  that  the  four  walls  are 
contracting  and  going  to  crush  one.  Harriet  Mar- 
tineau  (in  a  private  letter  shown  to  me),  with 
incomprehensible  ignorance,  jeers  at  Lewes  for 
introducing  psycholog]/  as  a  science  in  his  Comte 
papers.     Why,    Comte   himself   holds    psychology 


1852.]  Depression.  219 

to  be  a  necessary  link  in  the  chain  of  science.  Letter  to 
Lewes    only    suggests    a  change  in    its   relations.  Hennen?2d 
There  is  a  gieat  dreary  article  on  the  Colonies  by  ^^'^*'  ^^^^' 
my  side  asking  for  reading  and  abridgment,  so  I 
cannot   go  on  scribbling,  —  indeed  my  hands  are 
so  hot  and    tremulous  this  morning   that  it   will 
be  better  for  you  if  I  leave  off.      Your  little  lov- 
ing notes  are  very  precious  to  me ;  but  I  say  noth- 
ing about  matters  of  feeling  till  my  good  genius 
has   returned  from   his  excursions :    the  evil  one 
has  possession  just  now. 

The  week  has  really  yielded  nothing  worth  tell-  Letter  to 
ing  you.  I  am  a  few  degrees  more  wizened  and  mii'S' 
muddle-headed  ;  and  the  articles  for  the  "  Eeview  "  ^^"" 
are  on  the  whole  unsatisfactory.  I  fear  a  discern- 
ing public  will  think  this  number  a  sad  falling 
off.  This  is  the  greater  pity,  that  said  public  is 
patronising  us  well  at  present.  Scarcely  a  day 
passes  that  some  one  does  not  write  to  order  the 
"  Review  "  as  a  permanent  subscriber.  You  may 
as  well  expect  news  from  an  old  spider  or  bat  as 
from  me.  I  can  only  tell  you  what  I  think  of  the 
"Blithedale  Eomance,"  of  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin," 
and  the  American  Fishery  Dispute,  —  all  which, 
I  am  very  sure,  you  don't  want  to  know.  Do 
have  pity  on  me,  and  make  a  little  variety  in  my 
life,  by  all  sending  me  a  scrap,  —  never  mind  if 
it  be  only  six  lines  apiece.  Perhaps  something 
will  befall  me  one  day  or  other.  As  it  is,  nothing 
happens  to  me  but  the  ringing  of  the  dinner-bell 
and  the  arrival  of  a  proof.  I  have  no  courage  to 
walk  out. 

Lewes  called  on  me  the  other  day,  and  told  me  Letter  to 
of  a  conversation  with  Professor  Owen,  in  which  isirscpt!"^' 
the  latter  declared  his  conviction  that  the  cere- 


220 


Enjoyment  of  Edinhurgh.     [142  strand 


Letter  to 
Chas.  Bray, 
18th  Sept, 
1852. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennsll, 
S.iturday, 
Sept.  1852. 


Letter  to  the 
Brays,  2d 
Oct.  1852. 


Letter  to  the 
Brays,  7th 
Oct.  1852. 


brum  was  not  the  organ  of  the  mind,  but  the 
cerebellum  rather.  He  founds  on  the  enormous 
comparative  size  of  brain  in  the  grampus !  The 
professor  has  a  huge  anterior  lobe  of  his  own. 
What  would  George  Combe  say  if  I  were  to  tell 
him  ?  But  every  great  man  has  his  paradox,  and 
that  of  the  first  anatomist  in  Europe  ought  to  be 
a  startling  one. 

We  shall  make  a  respectable  figure  after  all,  — 
nine  articles,  and  two  or  three  of  them  good,  the 
rest  not  bad.  The  "  Eeview  "  has  been  selling  well 
lately,  in  spite  of  its  being  the  end  of  the  quarter. 
We  have  made  splendid  provision  for  January, 
—  Froude,  Harriet  Martineau,  Theodore  Parker, 
Samuel  Brown,  &c. ,  &c.  The  autumnal  freshness 
of  the  mornings  makes  me  dream  of  mellowing 
woods  and  gossamer  threads.  I  am  really  longing 
for  my  journey.  Bessie  Parkes  spent  last  evening 
with  me  chatting  of  experience. 

Pity  me, — I  have  had  the  headache  for  four 
days  incessantly.  But  now  I  am  well,  and  even 
the  Strand  seems  an  elysium  by  contrast.  I  set 
off  on  Tuesday  for  Edinburgh  by  express.  This 
is  awfully  expensive,  but  it  seems  the  only  way 
of  reaching  there  alive  with  my  frail  body.  I 
have  had  the  kindest  notes  from  the  Combes  and 
from  Harriet  Martineau. 

Here  I  am  in  this  beautiful  Auld  Eeekie  once 
more,  —  hardly  recognising  myself  for  the  same 
person  as  the  damozel  who  left  it  by  the  coach 
with  a  heavy  heart  some  six  years  ago.  The 
Combes  are  all  kindness,  and  I  am  in  clover,  — 
an  elegant  house,  glorious  fires,  and  a  comfortable 
carriage,  —  in  short,  just  in  the  circumstances  to 
nourish  sleek  optimism,  convince  one  that  this  is 


;852.]  The  Comles.  221 

le  meillcur  des  mondes  possibles,  and  make  one  Letter  to  the 
shudder  at  the  impiety  of  all  who  doubt  it.  Last  oct^^iJ-^!* 
evening  Mr.  Robert  Cox  came  to  tea  to  be  intro- 
duced to  me  as  my  cicerone  through  the  lions  of 
Edinburgh.  The  talk  last  night  was  pleasant 
enough,  though  of  course  all  the  interlocutors 
besides  Mr.  Combe  have  little  to  do  but  shape 
elegant  modes  of  negation  and  athrmation,  like  the 
people  who  are  talked  to  by  Socrates  in  Plato's 
dialogues,  — "  Certainly,"  "  That  I  firmly  believe," 
&c.  I  have  a  beautiful  view  from  my  room  win- 
dow, —  masses  of  wood,  distant  hills,  the  Firth, 
and  four  splendid  buildings,  dotted  far  apart,  — 
not  an  ugly  object  to  be  seen.  When  I  look  out 
in  the  morning,  it  is  as  if  I  had  waked  up  in 
Utopia  or  Icaria,  or  one  of  Owen's  parallelograms. 
The  weather  is  perfect,  —  all  the  more  delightful 
to  me  for  its  northern  sharpness,  which  is  just 
what  I  wanted  to  brace  me.  I  have  been  out 
walking  and  driving  all  day,  and  have  only  time 
before  dinner  to  send  this  i^oa?-  Worte,  but  I  may 
have  still  less  time  to-morrow. 

Between    the   beauty    of    the    weather   and    the  Letter tothe 

■,    ■      i  o  1  IT  Brays,  12th 

scenery,  and  the  kindness  of  good  people,  i  am  oct.  1852. 
tipsy  with  pleasure.  But  I  shall  tell  you  nothing 
of  what  I  see  and  do,  because  that  would  be  taking 
off  some  of  the  edge  from  your  pleasure  in  seeing 
me.  One's  dear  friend  who  has  nothing  at  all 
to  tell  one  is  a  bore.  Is  it  not  so,  honour  bright? 
I  enjoy  talking  to  Mr.  Combe, — he  can  tell  me 
many  things,  especially  about  men  in  America 
and  elsewhere,  which  are  valuable;  and  besides, 
I  sometimes  manage  to  get  in  more  than  a  nega- 
tive or  affirmative.  He  and  Mrs.  Combe  are  really 
affectionate  to  me,  and  the  mild  warmth  of  their 


222 


Visit  to  Miss  Martineau.      [142  strand, 


Letter  to  the 
Brays,  12th 
Oct.  1852. 


Letter  to 
hliiis  Sara 
Hennell, 
rjth  Oct. 
1S52. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Eeunell, 
19th  Oct. 
1852. 


Letter  to 
the  Brays, 
Thursday 
nisht,  22d 
Oct.  1852. 


regard,  with  the  perfect  order  and  elegance  of 
everything  about  me,  are  just  the  soothing  influ- 
ence to  do  me  good.  They  urge  me  to  stay  longer, 
but  I  shall  adhere  to  my  original  determination  of 
going  to  Miss  Martineau's  on  the  20th,  and  I  do 
not  mean  to  stay  with  her  longer  than  the  25th. 
We  are  going  to-day  to  Graigcrook  (Jeffrey's  place), 
a  beautiful  spot,  which  old  October  has  mellowed 
into  his  richest  tints.  Such  a  view  of  Edinburgh 
from  it! 

Those  who  know  the  article  on  Whewell  to  be 
Mill's,  generally  think  it  good,  but  I  confess  to 
me  it  is  unsatisfactory.  The  sun  does  shine  here, 
albeit  this  is  the  12th  October.  I  wish  you  could 
see  the  view  from  Salisbury  Crag. 

Yes,  he  is  an  apostle.  An  apostle,  it  is  true, 
with  a  back  and  front  drawing-room,  hut  still 
earnest,  convinced,  consistent,  having  fought  a 
good  fight,  and  now  peacefully  enjoying  the  retro- 
spect of  it.  I  shall  leave  these  good  friends  with 
regret,  almost  with  repentings,  that  I  did  not 
determine  to  pay  them  a  longer  visit.  I  have  had 
a  pleasant  note  from  Miss  Martineau  this  morning, 
with  a  vignette  of  her  house,  — I  suppose  to  make 
me  like  all  the  better  the  idea  of  going  there. 

The  coach  brought  me  to  Miss  Martineau's  gate 
at  half-past  six  yesterday  evening,  and  she  was 
there  with  a  beaming  face,  to  welcome  me.  Mr. 
Atkinson  joined  us  this  morning,  and  is  a  very 
agreeable  addition.  There  has  been  an  intelligent 
gentleman  visitor  to-day,  who  is  interested  in 
Miss  Martineau's  building  society;  and  we  have 
been  trudging  about  looking  at  cottages,  and  enjoy- 
ing the  sight  of  the  mountains,  spite  of  the  rain 
and  mist.     The  weather  is  not  promising,  that  is 


||;       -J 


09 

o 


1852.]  Esmond.  223 

the  worst  of  it.     Miss  M.  is  charming  in  her  own  Letter  to 
home,  —  qnite  handsome  from  her  animation  and  Thursd'ay' 
intelligence.      She  came  behind  me,  put  her  hands  oa.'^is&i! 
round  me,  and  kissed  me  in  the  prettiest  way  this 
evening,  telling  me  she  was  so  glad  she  had  got 
me  here.      I  send  you  her  note  that  you  may  have 
an  idea  of  "  The  Knoll. " 

We  had  a  fine  day  yesterday,  and  went  to  Bor-  Letter totha 
rowdale.      I  have  not  been  well  since  I  have  been  oct.^is5'j. 
here.      Still  I  manage  to  enjoy,  certainly  not  my- 
self, but  my  companions  and  the  scenery.      I  shall 
set  off  from  here  on  Tuesday  morning,  and  shall 
be  due  at  the  Coventry  station,  I  believe,  at  5. 50. 
After  a  pleasant  ten  days'  visit  to  Eosehill, 
Miss   Evans    returned   to   London   on   the    3d 
November. 
To  get  into  a  first-class  carriage,  fall  asleep,  and  Letter  to th* 
awake  to  find  oneself  where  one  would  be,  is  al-  -sar.^^'z. 
most  as  good  as  having  Prince  Hussein's  carpet. 
This  was  my  easy  way  of  getting  to  London  on 
Thursday.     By  5  o'clock  I  had  unpacked  my  boxes 
and  made  my  room  tidy,  and  then  I  began  to  feel 
some  satisfaction  in  beingj  settled  down  where  I 
am    of   most   use   just   now.     After  dinner   came 
Herbert  Spencer,  and  spent  the  evening.      Yester- 
day morning  Mr.  Greg  called  on  his  way  to  Paris, 
to  express  his  regret  that  he  did  not  see  me  at 
Ambleside.      He  is  very  pleasing,  but  somehow  or 
other  he  frightens  me  dreadfully.     I  am  going  to 
plunge  into  Thackeray's  novel  now  ("  Esmond  "). 

Oh  this  hideous  fog!     Let  me    grumble,    for  I  Letter  to 
have  had  headache  the  last  three  days,  and  there  Saturday,' 

^.^,.  .       c  4.1  •  1  •  1  Nov.C.')  1852. 

seems  little  prospect  oi  anything  else  m  such  an 
atmosphere.  I  am  ready  to  vow  that  I  will  not 
live  in  the  Strand  again  after  Christmas.     If  I 


224 


Editor's  Life. 


[142  STRAND, 


.  ijetter  to 
the  Brays, 
Saturday, 
Nov.  (?^ 
la5'2.     ' 


Letter  to 
the  Brays, 
Monday, 
2nth  Nov. 
1852. 


were  not  choked  by  the  fog,  the  time  would  trot- 
pleasantly  withal ;  but  of  what  use  are  brains  and 
friends  when  one  lives  in  a  light  such  as  might 
be  got  in  the  chimney  ?  "  Esmond  "  is  the  most  un- 
comfortable book  you  can  imagine.  You  remember 
how  you  disliked  "  Franyois  le  Champi.  "  Well, 
the  story  of  "  Esmond  "  is  just  the  same.  The  hero 
is  in  love  with  the  daughter  all  through  the  book, 
and  marries  the  mother  at  the  end.  You  should 
read  the  debates  on  the  opening  of  Parliament  in 
the  "  Times. "  Lord  Brougham,  the  greatest  of 
English  orators,  perpetrates  the  most  delicious  non 
sequitur  I  have  seen  for  a  long  time.  "  My  lords, 
I  believe  that  any  disturbance  of  the  repose  of  the 
world  is  very  remote,  because  it  is  our  imdeniaUe 
right  and  an  unquestionable  duty  to  be  prepared 
with  the  means  of  defence,  should  such  an  event 
occur.  "     These  be  thy  gods,  0  Israel ! 

I  perceive  your  reading  of  the  golden  rule  is 
"  Do  as  you  are  done  by ;  "  and  I  shall  be  wiser 
than  to  expect  a  letter  from  you  another  Monday 
morning,  when  I  have  not  earned  it  by  my  Satur- 
day's billet.  The  fact  is,  both  callers  and  work 
thicken, — the  former  sadly  interfering  with  the 
latter.  I  will  just  tell  you  how  it  was  last  Satur- 
day, and  that  will  give  you  an  idea  of  my  days. 
My  task  was  to  read  an  article  of  Greg's  in  the 
"  North  British  "  on  Taxation,  a  heap  of  newspaper 
articles,  and  all  that  J.  S.  Mill  says  on  the  same 
subject.  When  I  had  got  some  way  into  this  mag- 
num  mare,  in  comes  Mr.  Chapman,  with  a  thick 
German  volume.  "  Will  you  read  enough  of  this 
to  give  me  your  opinion  of  it  ? "  Then  of  course 
I  must  have  a  walk  after  lunch,  and  when  I  had 
sat  down  again,    thinking  that  I    had  two  clear 


1852.]  Women  to  pay  Licome-Tax.  225 

hours  before  dinner,  rap  at  the  door,  — Mr.  Lewes,  Letter  to 
who,  of  course,  sits   talking  till  the  second  bell  ulS'!' 
rings.     After  dinner  another  visitor,  and  so  behold  f^^^""^- 
me,  at  11  p.m.,  still  very  far  at  sea  on  the  subject 
of  Taxation,  but  too  tired  to  keep  my  eyes  open. 
We  had  Bryant  the  poet  last  evening,  —  a  pleasant, 
quiet,  elderly  man.     Do  you  know  of  this  second 
sample  of  plagiarism  by  Disraeli,  detected  by  the 
"  Morning  Chronicle  "  ?  ^     It  is  worth  sending  for 
its  cool  impudence.     Write  me  some  news  about 
trade,  at  all  events.      I  could  tolerate  even  Louis 
Napoleon,  if  somehow  or  other   he  could  have  a 
favourable  influence  on  the  Coventry  trade ! 

Another  week  almost  "with  the  years  beyond  Letter  to  the 
the  flood  "  !  What  has  it  brought  you  ?  To  me  Decf  18I2!' 
it  has  brought  articles  to  read,  —  for  the  most  part 
satisfactory,  —  new  callers,  and  letters  to  nibble 
at  my  time,  and  a  meeting  of  the  Association  for 
the  Abolition  of  Taxes  on  Knowledge.  I  am  in- 
vited to  go  to  the  Leigh  Smiths'  on  Monday  even- 
ing to  meet  Mr.  Eobert  Noel.  Herbert  Spencer 
is  invited  too,  because  Mr.  Noel  wants  especially 
to  see  him.  Barbara  Smith  speaks  of  Mr.  E.  Noel 
as  their  "  dear  German  friend. "  So  the  Budget  is 
come  out,  and  I  am  to  pay  income-tax.  All  very 
right,  of  course.  An  enlightened  personage  like 
me  has  no  "  ignorant  impatience  of  taxation. "  I 
am  glad  to  hear  of  the  Lectures  to  Young  Men  and 
the  banquet  of  the  Labourers'  Friend  Society. 
"  Be  not  weary  in  well-doing. "  Thanks  to  Sara 
for  her  letter.  She  must  not  mind  paying  the 
income-tax:  it  is  a  right  principle  that  Dizzy  is 
going  upon ;    and  with    her    great    conscientious- 

1  Funeral  oration  on  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 

VOL.  I. —  15 


226 


Mr.  Edward  Clarhe's  Death.      [142  strand, 


Letter  to  the 
Brays,  10th 
Dec.  1852. 


lietter  to 
Chas.  Bray, 
19th  (?) 
Dec.  1852. 


Letter  to 
Chaa.  Bray, 
21st  Dec. 
1852. 


Letter  to 
the  Brays, 
Christmas 
D.ay,  25th 
Dec.  1852, 
from 
Meriden, 


ness    she  ought   to  enjoy  being  flayed  on  a  right 
principle. 

I  am  not  well,  —  all  out  of  sorts,  —  and  what  do 
you  think  I  am  minded  to  do  ?  Take  a  return 
ticket,  and  set  off  by  the  train  to-morrow  12 
o'clock,  have  a  talk  with  you  and  a  blow  over  the 
hill,  and  come  back  relieved  on  Monday.  I  the 
rather  indulge  myself  in  this,  because  I  think  I 
shall  not  be  able  to  be  with  you  until  some  time 
after  Christmas.  Pray  forgive  me  for  not  sending 
you  word  before.  I  have  only  just  made  up  my 
mind. 

This  visit  to  Eosehill  lasted  only  from  the 
11th  to  13th  December,  and  the  following  short 
note  is  the  next  communication  :  — 
I  am  very  wretched  to-day  on  many  accounts,  and 
am  only  able  to  write  you  two  or  three  lines.  I 
have  heard  this  morning  that  Mr.  Clarke  is  dan- 
gerously ill.  Poor  Chrissey  and  her  children! 
Thank  you  for  your  kind  letter. 

I  daresay  you  will  have  heard,  before  you  re- 
ceive this,  that  Edward  Clarke  is  dead.  I  am 
to  go  to  the  funeral,  which  will  take  place  on 
Friday.  I  am  debating  with  myself  as  to  what 
I  ought  to  do  now  for  poor  Chrissey,  but  I  must 
wait  until  I  have  been  on  the  spot  and  seen  my 
brother.  If  you  hear  no  more  from  me,  I  shall 
trust  to  your  goodness  to  give  me  a  bed  on  Thurs- 
day night. 

Your  love  and  goodness  are  a  comforting  presence 
to  me  everywhere,  whether  I  am  ninety  or  only 
nine  miles  away  from  you.  Chrissey  bears  her 
trouble  much  better  than  I  expected.  We  hope 
that  an  advantageous  arrangement  may  be  made 
about  the   practice ;    and  there  is  a  considerable 


1853.]  Anxiety  fur  Mrs.  Clarke.  227 

sum  in  debts  to  be  collected.     I  shall  return  to  Letter  to 
town  on  Wednesday.     It  would  have  been  a  com-  christ^^w 
fort  to  see  you  again  before  going  back,  but  there  i)ec.'/852, 
are  many  reasons  for  not  doing  so.      I  am  satisfied  Merluen. 
now  that  my  duties  do  not  lie  here,  though   the 
dear  creatures  here  will  be  a  constant  motive  for 
work  and  economy. 

I    arrived  here    only  yesterday.     I    had  agreed  Letter  to  the 
with  Chrissey  that,  all  things  considered,  it  was  Decrit^jf 
wiser  for   me  to   return  to  town,  —  that  I  could 
do   her   no  substantial   good  by    staying   another 
week,  while  I  should  be  losing  time  as  to  other 
matters. 

I  am  out  of  spirits  about  the  "  Keview. "  I  Letter  to  the 
should  be  glad  to  run  away  from  it  altogether,  jan.^isoa.' 
But  one  thing  is  clear,  that  it  would  be  a  great 
deal  worse  if  I  were  not  here.  This  is  the  only 
thought  that  consoles  me.  We  are  thinking  of 
sending  Chrissey 's  eldest  boy  to  Australia.  A 
patient  of  his  father's  has  offered  to  place  him 
under  suitable  protection  at  Adelaide,  and  I 
strongly  recommend  Chrissey  to  accept  her  offer, 
—  that  is,  if  she  will  let  it  be  available  a  year 
hence;  so  I  have  bought  Sidney's  book  on  Aus- 
tralia, and  am  going  to  send  it  to  Chrissey  to  en- 
lighten her  about  matters  there,  and  accustom  her 
mind  to  the  subject.  You  are  "  jolly,"  I  daresay, 
as  good  people  have  a  right  to  be.  Tell  me  as 
much  of  your  happiness  as  you  can,  that  I  may 
rejoice  in  your  joy,  having  none  of  my  own. 

I  begin  to  feel  for  other  people's  wants  and  sor-  f;^^";;^*"^ 
rows  a  little  more  than  I  used  to  do.     Heaven  Jan.  1853. 
help  us !  said  the  old  religion ;  the  new  one,  from 
its  very  lack  of  that  faith,  will  teach  us  all  the 
more  to  help  one  another.     Tell  Sara  she  is  as 


228  W.  E.  Forster  on  Slavery.     [142  strand, 

good  as  a  group  of  spice  islands  to  me ;  she  wafts 
the  pleasantest  influences,  even  from  a  distance, 
^tter  U)  Pray  do  not  lay  the   sins  of   the  article  on  the 

Henneii,       Atomic  thcory  to  poor  Lewes 's  charge.     How  you 
1853.  *"■      could  take  it  for  his  I  cannot  conceive.      It  is  as 
remote  from  his  style,  both  of  thinking  and  writ- 
ing, as  anything  can  be. 
Letter  tothe      This  weck  has  yielded  nothing  to  me  but  a  croD 

Brays,  18th         n  iiii  mi  ■"• 

Jan.  1853.  ot  vcry  large  headaches.  The  pain  has  gone  from 
my  head  at  last;  but  I  am  feeling  very  much  shat- 
tered, and  find  it  easier  to  cry  than  to  do  anything 
else. 

Mr^mer         ^^  complaint,  of  which  I  am  now  happily  rid, 
Tayiorfut    was  rlicumatism  in  the  right  arm,  —  a  sufficient 

Feb  1853  >  ^  kj^iii\_/i\^i.iu 

reason,  you  will  see,  for  my  employing  a  scribe  to 
write  that  promise  which  I  now  fulfil.  I  am 
going  into  the  country,  perhaps  for  a  fortnight, 
so  that  if  you  are  kind  enough  to  come  here  on 
Wednesday  evening,  I  shall  not  have  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  you.  All  the  more  reason  for  writing 
to  you,  in  spite  of  cold  feet  and  the  vilest  pens 
in  the  world. 

Francis  Newman  is  likely  to  come  once  or  twice 
in  the  season,  —  not  more.  He  has,  of  course,  a 
multitude  of  engagements,  and  many  more  attrac- 
tive ones  than  a  soiree  in  the  Strand. 

Never  mention  me  to  him  in  the  character  of 
Editress.  I  think  — at  least  I  am  told  —  that  he 
has  no  high  estimate  of  woman's  powers  and  func- 
tions. But  let  that  pass.  He  is  a  very  pure, 
noble  being,  and  it  is  good  only  to  look  at  such. 

The  article  on  Slavery,  in  the  last  number  of 
the  "  Westminster,"  —  which  I  think  the  best 
article  of  them  all, —  is  by  W.  E.  Forster,  a  York- 
shire   manufacturer,    who    married   Dr.    Arnold's 


1853.]  Interest  in  America.  229 


daughter.     He    is    a    very    earnest,    independent  Letter  to 
thinker,  and  worth  a  gross  of  literary  hacks  who  Ta"io^!m 
have  the  "  trick  "  of  writing.  v^^.i^. 

I  hope  you  are  interested  in  the  Slavery  ques- 
tion, and  in  America  generally,  —  that  cradle  of 
the  future.  I  used  resolutely  to  turn  away  from 
American  politics,  and  declare  that  the  United 
States  was  the  last  region  of  the  world  I  should 
care  to  visit.  Even  now  I  almost  loathe  the  com- 
mon American  type  of  character.  But  I  am  con- 
verted to  a  profound  interest  in  the  history, 
the  laws,  the  social  and  religious  phases  of 
North  America,  and  long  for  some  knowledge 
of  them. 

Is  it  not  cheering  to  think  of  the  youthfulness 
of  this  little  planet,  and  the  immensely  greater 
youthfulness  of  our  race  upon  it?  —  to  think  that 
the  higher  moral  tendencies  of  human  nature  are 
yet  only  in  their  germ  ?  I  feel  this  more  thor- 
oughly when  I  think  of  that  great  Western  Con- 
tinent, with  its  infant  cities,  its  huge  uncleared 
forests,  and  its  unaraalgamated  races. 

I  daresay  you  have  guessed  that  the  article  on 
Ireland  is  Harriet  Marti neau's.  Herbert  Spencer 
did  not  contribute  to  the  last  number. 

Apropos  of  articles,  do  you  see  the  "  Prospective 
Eeview  "  ?  There  is  an  admirable  critique  of 
Kingsley's"  Phaethon  "  in  it,  by  James  Martineau. 
But  perhaps  you  may  not  be  as  much  in  love  with 
Kingsley's  genius,  and  as  much  "riled"  by  his 
faults,    as  I  am. 

Of  course  you  have  read  "  Paith  "  by  this  time. 
Its  style  was  a  great  refreshment  to  me,  from  its 
finish  and  fulness.  How  women  have  the  courage 
to  write  and  publishers  the  spirit  to  buy  at  a  high 


Feb.  1853. 


230  3frs.  GashelVs  "  Ruth."      [142  strand, 

Letter  to  ptice  the  false  and  feeble  representations  of  life 
Tayiorfi"  ^nd  chaiacter  that  most  feminine  novels  give,  is 
a  constant  marvel  to  me.  "  Euth, "  with  all  its 
merits,  will  not  be  an  enduring  or  classical  fiction, 
—  will  it  ?  Mrs.  Gaskell  seems  to  me  to  be  con- 
stantly misled  by  a  love  of  sharp  contrasts,  —  of 
"  dramatic  "  effects.  She  is  not  contented  with 
the  subdued  colouring, —  the  half  tints  of  real  life. 
Hence  she  agitates  one  for  the  moment,  but  she 
does  not  secure  one's  lasting  sympathy;  her  scenes 
and  characters  do  not  become  typical.  But  how 
pretty  and  graphic  are  the  touches  of  description ! 
That  little  attic  in  the  minister's  house,  for  ex- 
ample, which,  with  its  pure  white  dimity  bed- 
curtains,  its  bright-green  walls,  and  the  rich 
brown  of  its  stained  floor,  remind  one  of  a  snow- 
drop springing  out  of  the  soil.  Then  the  rich 
humour  of  Sally,  and  the  sly  satire  in  the  descrip- 
tion of  Mr.  Bradshaw.  Mrs.  Gaskell  has  cer- 
tainly a  charming  mind,  and  one  cannot  help 
loving  her  as  one  reads  her  books. 

A  notable  book  just  come  out  is  Wharton's 
"  Summary  of  the  Laws  relating  to  Women.  "  "  En- 
franchisement of  women "  only  makes  creeping 
progress ;  and  that  is  best,  for  woman  does  not 
yet  deserve  a  much  better  lot  than  man  gives 
her. 

I  am  writing  to  you  the  last  thing,  and  am  so 
tired  that  I  am  not  quite  sure  whether  I  finish  my 
sentences.  But  your  divining  power  will  supply 
their  deficiencies. 

The  first  half  of  Februq,ry  was  spent  in  visits 
to  the  Brays  and  to  Mrs.  Clarke  at  Attleboro, 
and  on  returning  to  London  Miss  Evans 
writes :  — 


1853.]  "  Villette"  — Mr.  Huxley.  231 

I  am  only  just  returned  to  a  sense  of  the  real  world  letter  to 
about  me,  for  I  have  been  reading  "  Villette, "  a  still  mih  jvo.*' 
more  wonderful  book  than  "  Jane  Eyre. "     There  is 
something  almost  preternatural  in  its  power. 

Mrs.  Follen  showed  me  a  delightful  letter  which  Lottertothe 
she  has  had  from  Mrs.  Stowe,  telling  all  about  Keirik-b*:' 
herself.  She  begins  by  saying :  "  I  am  a  little  bit 
of  a  woman,  rather  more  than  forty,  as  withered 
and  dry  as  a  pinch  of  snuff;  never  very  well  worth 
looking  at  in  my  best  days,  and  now  a  decidedly 
used-up  article. "  The  whole  letter  is  most  fas- 
cinating, and  makes  one  love  her. 

"  Villette, "  "  Villette, "  —  have  you  read  it  ? 

We  had  an  agreeable  evening  on  Wednesday,  —  Lettertothe 

Brays  25th 

a  Mr.  Huxley  being  the  centre  of  interest.  Since  Feb.  iW 
then  I  have  been  headachy  and  in  a  perpetual  rage 
over  an  article  that  gives  me  no  end  of  trouble,  and 
will  not  be  satisfactory  after  all.  I  should  like  to 
stick  red-hot  skewers  through  the  writer,  whose 
style  is  as  sprawling  as  his  handwriting!  For  the 
rest,  I  am  in  excellent  spirits,  though  not  in  the 
best  health  or  temper.  I  am  in  for  loads  of  work 
next  quarter,  but  I  shall  not  tell  you  what  I  am 
going  to  do. 

I  have  been  ready  to  tear  my  hair  with  disap-  Lettertotiie 

,  ,  T  /.     1        «  T-.        •  >i    Brays,  IPtli 

pointment  about  the  next  number  oi  the     Keview.     March,  is53. 
In  short,  I  am  a  miserable  editor.      I  think  I  shall 
never  have  the  energy  to  move,  —  it  seems  to  be 
of  so  little  consequence  where  I  am  or  what  I  do. 

On   Saturday  I  was  correcting  proofs  literally  Letter  to 
from   morning  till  night ;    yesterday   ditto.     The  Hemiru? 
"  Eeview  "  will  be  better  than  I  once  feared,  but  i'^.**"'*^ 
not   so    good   as   I    once    hoped.      I    suppose   the 
weather  has  chilled  your  charity  as  well  as  mine. 
I  am  very  hard   and   Mephistophelian  just  now, 


232    Growing  Intimacy  with  Mr.  Lewes.   [142  strand^ 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Heimell, 
28th  March, 
1853. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
11th  April, 
1853. 


liBtter  to 
Mrs.  Bray, 
10th  April, 
1853. 


but  I  lay  it  all  to  this  second  winter.  We  had 
a  pleasant  evening  last  Wednesday.  Lewes,  as 
always,  genial  and  amusing.  He  has  quite  won 
my  liking,  in  spite  of  myself.  Of  course  Mr.  Bray 
highly  approves  the  recommendation  of  the  Com- 
missioners on  Divorce.  I  have  been  to  Blandford 
Square  (Leigh  Smith's)  to  an  evening  party  this 
week.  Dined  at  Mr.  Parkes's  on  Sunday,  and  am 
invited  to  go  there  again  to-night  to  meet  the 
Smiths.  Lewes  was  describing  Currer  Bell  to  me 
yesterday  as  a  little,  plain,  provincial,  sickly- 
looking  old  maid.  Yet  what  passion,  what  fire  in 
her !  Quite  as  much  as  in  George  Sand,  only  the 
clothing  is  less  voluptuous. 

What  do  you  think  of  my  going  to  Australia 
with  Chrissey  and  all  her  family  ?  —  to  settle 
them,  and  then  come  back.  I  am  just  going  to 
write  to  her  and  suggest  the  idea.  One  wants 
something  to  keep  up  one's  faith  in  happiness,  — 
a  ray  or  two  for  one's  friends,  if  not  for  one's 
self. 

We  had  an  agreeable  soiree  last  Wednesday.  I 
fell  in  love  with  Helen  Faucit.  She  is  the  most 
poetic  woman  I  have  seen  for  a  long  time,  —  there 
is  the  ineffable  charm  of  a  fine  character  which 
makes  itself  felt  in  her  face,  voice,  and  manner. 
I  am  taking  doses  of  agreeable  follies,  as  you  recom- 
mend. Last  night  I  went  to  the  French  theatre, 
and  to-night  I  am  going  to  the  opera  to  hear 
"  William  Tell. "  People  are  very  good  to  me. 
Mr.  Lewes  especially  is  kind  and  attentive,  and 
has  quite  won  my  regard,  after  having  had  a  good 
deal  of  my  vituperation.  Like  a  few  other  people 
in  the  world,  he  is  much  better  than  he  seems.  A 
man   of  heart  and   conscience  wearing   a  mask  of 


1853,]  Sir  James  Clark.  —  Rachel.  233 

flippancy.  When  the  warm  days  come,  and  the 
bearskin  is  under  the  acacia,  you  must  have  me 
again. 

6th  May.  — 'Went  to  Rosehill  and  returned 
on  23d  to  Strand. 
On  Wednesday  I  dined  at  Sir  James  Clark's,  Letterto 
where  the  Combes  are  staying,  and  had  a  very  nthjmie^ 
pleasant  evening.  The  Combes  have  taken  lodg- 
ings in  Oxford  Terrace,  where  I  mean  to  go.  It  is 
better  than  the  Strand,  —  trees  waving  before  the 
windows,  and  no  noise  of  omnibuses.  Last  Satur- 
day evening  I  had  quite  a  new  pleasure.  We  went 
to  see  Eachel  again,  and  sat  on  the  stage  between 
the  scenes.  When  the  curtain  fell,  we  walked 
about  and  saw  the  green-room,  and  all  the  dingy, 
dusty  paraphernalia  that  make  up  theatrical  splen- 
dour. I  have  not  yet  seen  the  "  Vashti  "  of  Cnrrer 
Bell  in  Rachel,  though  there  was  some  approach 
to  it  in  Adrienne  Lecouvreur. 

On  Saturday  we  will  go  to  Ockley,  near  Dork-  Letterto 

Miss  Sara 

ing,  where  are  staying  Miss  Julia  Smith,  Barbara  Henneii, 
Smith,  and  Bessie  Parkes.     I  shall  write  to  the  isk  ""*' 
Ockley  party  to-day,  and  tell  them  of  the  prob- 
ability that  they  will  see  you. 

I  never  felt  the  delight  of  the  thorough  change  Letterto 

,  °  /^      Mr?.  Bray, 

that  the  coast  gives  one  so  much  as  now,  and  1  si  a-j,. 
shall  l)e  longing  to  be  off  with  you  again  in  sV.'Leonai-di 
October.  I  am  on  a  delightful  hill  looking  over 
the  heads  of  the  houses,  and  having  a  vast  expanse 
of  sea  and  sky  for  my  only  view.  The  bright 
weather  and  genial  air  — ■  so  different  from  Avhat 
I  have  had  for  a  year  before  —  make  me  feel  as 
happy  and  stupid  as  a  well-conditioned  cow.  I 
sit  looking  at  the  sea  and  the  sleepy  ships  with  a 
purely  animal  hien  etre. 


234 


Visit  to  St.  Leonards,      [st.  Leonards, 


Letter  to 
Mr.  Bray, 
Sth  Aug. 
1853. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
18th  Aug. 
1853. 


It  would  have  been  a  satisfaction  to  your  benev- 
olence to  see  me  sitting  on  the  beach  laughing  at 
the  "  Herald's  "  ^  many  jokes,  and  sympathising 
with  your  indignation  against  Judge  Maule.  It 
always  helps  me  to  be  happy  when  I  know  that 
you  are  so ;  but  I  do  not  choose  to  vindicate  my- 
self against  doubts  of  that,  because  it  is  unworthy 
of  you  to  entertain  them.  I  am  going  on  as  well 
as  possible  physically,  —  really  getting  stout.  I 
should  like  to  have  a  good  laugh  with  you  im- 
mensely. How  nice  it  would  be  to  meet  you  and 
Cara  on  the  beach  this  evening,  and  instead  of 
sending  you  such  a  miserable  interpreter  of  one's 
feelings  as  a  letter,  give  you  the  look  and  the 
hand  of  warm  affection !  This  British  Channel 
really  looks  as  blue  as  the  Mediterranean  to-day. 
What  weather ! 

For  the  first  time  in  my  experience  I  am  pos- 
itively revelling  in  the  "  Prospective.  "  James 
Martineau  transcends  himself  in  beauty  of  imagery 
in  the  article  on  Sir  William  Hamilton,  but  I  have 
not  finished  him  yet.  Yesterday  it  rained  sans 
intermission,  and  of  course  I  said  ctii  hono  ?  and 
found  my  troubles  almost  more  than  I  could  bear ; 
but  to-day  the  sun  shines,  and  there  is  blue  above 
and  blue  below,  consequently  I  find  life  very  glori- 
ous, and  myself  a  particularly  fortunate  diavolessa. 
The  landlord  of  my  lodgings  is  a  German,  — 
comes  from  Saxe-Weimar,  knows  well  the  Duchess 
of  Orleans,  and  talked  to  me  this  morning  of  Mr. 
Schiller  and  Mr.  Goethe.  Aiiropos  of  Goethe, 
there  is  a  most  true,  discriminating  passage  about 
him  in  the  article  on  Shakspeare  in  the  "  Pro- 
spective. "     Mr.  Goethe  is  one  of  my  companions 

1  Mr.  Bray  had  become  proprietor  of  the  "  Coventry  Herald." 


1853.]         "  Frosjpective  Eeview"  071  GoctJie.  235 

here,  and  I  had  felt  some  days  before  reading  the 

passage  the  truth  which  it  expresses. 

Subjoined  is  the  passage  from  the  "  Prospec- 
tive Eeview  "  of  August,  1853  :  — 

"  Goethe's  works  are  too  much  in  the  nature 
of  literary  studies;  the  mind  is  often  deeply 
impressed  by  them,  but  one  doubts  if  the  author 
was.  He  saw  them  as  he  saw  the  houses  of 
Weimar  and  the  plants  in  the  act  of  metamor- 
phosis. He  had  a  clear  perception  of  their 
fixed  condition  and  their  successive  transitions, 
but  he  did  not  really  (at  least  so  it  seems  to 
us)  comprehend  their  motive  power.  In  a 
word,  he  appreciated  their  life  but  not  their 
liveliness.  .  .  .  And  we  trace  this  not  to  a 
defect  in  imaginative  power,  —  a  defect  which 
it  would  be  a  simple  absurdity  to  impute  to 
Goethe,  —  but  to  the  tone  of  his  character  and 
the  habits  of  his  mind.  He  moved  hither  and 
thither  through  life,  but  he  was  always  a  man 
apart.  He  mixed  with  unnumbered  kinds  of 
men,  with  courts  and  academies,  students  and 
women,  camps  and  artists,  —  but  everywhere 
he  was  with  them,  yet  not  of  them.  In  every 
scene  he  was  there,  and  he  made  it  clear  that 
he  was  there  with  a  reserve  and  as  a  stranger. 
He  went  there  to  experience.  As  a  man  of  uni- 
versal culture,  and  well  skilled  in  the  order 
and  classification  of  human  life,  the  fact  of 
any  one  class  or  order  being  beyond  his  reach 
or  comprehension  seemed  an  absurdity ;  and  it 
was  an  absurdity.  He  thought  that  he  was 
equal  to  moving  in  any  description  of  society, 
and  he  was  equal  to  it ;  but  then,  on  that 
account,  he  was  absorbed  in  none. " 


236 


Change  of  Lodgings.     [21  Cambridge  st., 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Henuell, 
19th  Sept. 
1853. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
1st  Oct. 
1853. 


As  for  me,  I  am  in  the  best  health  and  spirits. 
I  have  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Combe  to-day  urging 
me  to  go  to  Edinburgh,  but  I  have  made  an  en- 
gagement with  Mr.  Chapman  to  do  work,  which 
will  oblige  me  to  remain  in  London.  Mrs.  P.  is 
a  very  bonny,  pleasant-looking  woman,  with  a 
smart  drawing-room  and  liberal  opinions, — in 
short,  such  a  friend  as  self-interest,  well  under- 
stood, would  induce  one  to  cultivate.  I  find  it 
difficult  to  meet  v/ith  any  lodgings  at  once  toler- 
able and  cheap.  My  theory  is  to  live  entirely  — 
that  is,  pay  rent  and  find  food  —  out  of  my  posi- 
tive income,  and  then  work  for  as  large  a  surplus 
as  I  can  get.  The  next  number  of  the  "  Keview  " 
will  be  better  than  usual.  Froude  writes  on  the 
Book  of  Job !  He  at  first  talked  of  an  article  on 
the  three  great  subjective  poems,  —  Job,  Faust, 
and  Hamlet,  —  an  admirable  subject,  —  but  it  has 
shrunk  to  the  Book  of  Job  alone. 

I  have  been  busied  about  my  lodgings  all  after- 
noon. I  am  not  going  to  Albion  Street,  but  to  21 
Cambridge  Street,  Hyde  Park  Square.  I  hope  you 
will  be  pleased  with  our  present  number.  If  you 
don't  think  the  "  Universal  Postulate  "  first-rate, 
I  shall  renounce  you  as  a  critic.  Why  don't  you 
write  gnimbling  letters  to  me  when  you  are  out  of 
humour  with  life,  instead  of  making  me  ashamed 
of  myself  for  ever  having  grumbled  to  you  ?  I 
have  been  a  more  good-for-nothing  correspondent 
than  usual  lately,  — this  affair  of  getting  lodgings, 
added  to  my  other  matters,  has  taken  up  my  time 
and  thoughts.  I  have  promised  to  do  some  work 
to-night  and  to-morrow  for  a  person  ^  who  is  rather 


J  Correcting  "  Leader  "  proofs  for  Mr.  Lewes. 


1853.]  "  Religion  of  the  Heart"  237 

more  idle  than  myself,  so  I  have  not  a  moment  to 
spare. 

I  am  reading  "  The  Eeligion  of  the  Heart  "  (Leigh  Letter  to 
Hunt's),  and  am  far  more  pleased  with  it  than  I  Hennln* 
expected  to  be.      I  have  just  fallen  on  two  passages  isos?^*' 
with  which  you  will  agree.      "  Parker  ...   is  full 
of  the  poetry  of  religion ;  Martineau  equally  so, 
with   a   closer  style    and    incessant   eloquence   of 
expression,  perhaps  a  perilous  superabundance  of 
it  as  regards  the  claims  of  matter  over  manner  ; 
and  his  assumptions  of  perfection  in  the  character 
of  Jesus  are  so  reiterated  and  peremptory  that  in 
a  man   of  less  evident  heart  and   goodness  they 
might  almost  look  like  a  very  unction  of  insin- 
cerity  or  of  policy,  —  of  doubt  forcing  itself  to 
seem  undoubting.      Hennell's  '  Christian  Theism  ' 
is    one  long   beautiful  discourse   proclaiming  the 
great  Bible  of  Creation,  and  reconciling  Pagan  and 
Christian  Philosophy. " 

Good  Sir  James  Clark  stopped  me  in  the  Park 
vesterday,  as  I  was  sauntering  along  with  eyes  on 
the  clouds,  and  made  very  fatherly  inquiries  about 
me,  urging  me  to  spend  a  quiet  evening  with  him 
and  Lady  Clark  next  week,  —  which  I  will  cer- 
tainly do;  for  they  are  two  capital  people,  without 
any  snobbery.  I  like  my  lodgings,  —  the  house- 
keeper cooks  charming  little  dinners  for  me,  and 
I  have  not  one  disagreeable  to  complain  of  at 
present,  save  such  as  are  inseparable  from  a  ground 
floor. 

Last  night  I  saw  the  first  fine  specimen  of  a  ^e""*" 
man  in  the  shape  of  a  clercjyman  that  I  ever  met  29th  Oct.* 

J-  vr>,/ 1853. 

with,  — Dawes,  the  Dean  of  Hereford.  He  is  the 
man  who  has  been  making  the  experiment  of 
mingling  the  middle  and  lower  classes  in  schools. 


238 


Universal  Postulate"     [21  Cambridge  st., 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hermell, 
3d  Nov. 
1853. 


Ijetter  to 
Mr.  Bray, 
5th  Nov. 
1853. 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Hough- 
ton, 7th 
Nov.  1853. 


He  has  a  face  so  intelligent  and  benignant  that 
children  might  grow  good  by  looking  at  it.  Har- 
riet Martineau  called  yesterday.  She  is  going  to 
her  brother's  at  Birmingham  soon. 

Mr.  Lewes  was  at  Cambridge  about  a  fortnight 
ago,  and  found  that  Herbert  Spencer  was  a  great 
deal  talked  of  there  for  the  article  on  the  Univer- 
sal Postulate,  as  well  as  other  things.  Mr.  Lewes 
himself  has  a  knot  of  devotees  there  who  make  his 
"  History  of  Philosophy  "  a  private  text-book.  Miss 
Martineau 's  "  Comte  "  is  out  now.  Do  you  mean 
to  do  it?  or  Mr.  Lewes's?  We  can  get  no  one 
to  write  an  article  on  Comte  for  the  next  number 
of  the  "  Westminster, "  —  Bain,  our  last  hope, 
refusing. 

I  think  you  would  find  some  capital  extracts  for 
the  "  Herald  "  (Coventry),  in  the  article  on  Church 
Parties  in  the  "  Edinburgh.  "  The  "  Ptecord  "  is  at- 
tempting a  reply  to  it,  in  which  it  talks  of  the 
truculent  infidelity  of  Voltaire  and  Rolespierre ! 
Has  A.  sent  you  his  book  on  the  Sabbath?  If 
ever  I  write  a  book,  I  will  make  a  present  of  it 
to  nobody,  —  it  is  the  surest  way  of  taking  off  the 
edge  of  appetite  for  it,  if  no  more.  I  am  as  well 
as  possible,  —  and  certainly  when  I  put  my  head 
into  the  house  in  the  Strand,  I  feel  that  I  have 
gained,  or  rather  escaped,  a  great  deal  physically 
by  my  change.  Have  you  known  the  misery  of 
writing  with  a  tired  steel  pen,  which  is  reluctant 
to  make  a  mark  ?  If  so,  you  will  know  why  I 
leave  off. 

Chrissey  has  just  sent  me  a  letter,  which  tells 
that  you  have  been  suffering  severely,  and  that 
you  are  yet  very  ill.  I  must  satisfy  my  own  feel- 
ings, by  telling  you  that  I  grieve  at  this,  though 


1853.]  Harriet  Martineau.  239 

it  will  do  you  little  good  to  know  it.     Still,  when  Letter  to 
/  am  suffering,  I  do  care  for  sympathy,  and  per-  tont7u°"^^' 
haps  you  are  of  the  same  mind.     If  so,  think  of  ^"^•^''^ 
me  as  your  loving  sister,  who  remembers  all  your 
kindness  to  her,  all   the  pleasant  hours  she  has 
had  with  you,  and  every  little  particular  of  her 
intercourse   with  you,  however  long  and  far  she 
may  have  been  removed  from  you.     Dear  Fanny, 
I  can  never  be  indifferent  to  your  happiness  or  sor- 
row, and  in  this  present  sad  affliction  my  thoughts 
and  love  are  with  you.      I  shall  teaze  you  with  no 
words  about  myself  novj,  —  perhaps  by-and-by  it 
will  amuse  you  to  have  a  longer  letter. 

Hitherto  I  have  been  spending  £9  per  month,  —  Letter  to 
at  least  after  that  rate,  — but  I  have  had  frequent  mi'uly!' 
guests.  I  am  exceedingly  comfortable,  and  feel 
quite  at  home  now.  Harriet  Martineau  has  been 
very  kind,  —  called  again  on  Tuesday,  and  yester- 
day sent  to  invite  me  to  go  to  Lady  Compton's, 
where  she  is  staying,  on  Saturday  evening.  This, 
too,  in  spite  of  my  having  vexed  her  by  introduc- 
ing Mr.  Lewes  to  her,  which  I  did  as  a  desirable 
bit  of  peacemaking. 

I  begin  this  year  more  happily  than  I  have  done  Letter  to 
most  years  of  my  life.     "Notre  vraie  destinde,"  Henneii,22d 
says  Comte,  "  se  compose  de  resignation  et  cVac-  (thirty- 
tivite, "  —  and  I  seem  more  disposed  to  both  than  birthday). 
I  have  ever  been  before.     Let  us   hope  that  we 
shall  both  get  stronger  by  the  year's  activity,  — 
calmer  by  its  resignation.     I  know  it  may  be  just 
the  contrary,  — don't  suspect  me  of  being  a  cant- 
ing optimist.     We  may  both  find  ourselves  at  the 
end  of  the  year  going  faster  to  the  hell   of  con- 
scious   moral    and    intellectual    weakness.      Still 
there   is   a  possibility  —  even  a  probability  —  the 


240  Troubles.         [21  Cambridge  st., 

Letter  to      Other  Way.     I  have  not  seen  Harriet  Martineau's 
Heuneii,  22d  "  Comte  "  yet,  —  she  is  going  to  give  me  a  copy,  — 
(thrrty-""       hut  Mr.  Lewes  tells  me  it  seems  to  him  admirably 
birthday),     ^cll  doue.      I  told  Mr.  Chapman  yesterday  that  I 
wished  to  give  up  any  connection  with  the  editor- 
ship of  the  "  Westminster.  "     He  wishes  me  to  con- 
tinue the  present  state  of  things  until  April.     I 
shall  be  much  more  satisfied  on  many  accounts  to 
have  done  with  that  affair;    but  I  shall  find  the 
question    of   supplies   rather  a    difficult   one    this 
year,  as  I  am  not  likely  to  get  any  money  either 
for  "  Feuerbach  "   or  for  "  The    Idea   of   a   Future 
Life,  "  1  for  which  I  am  to  have  "  half  profits  "  =  §  1 
I  liope  you  will  appreciate  this  hon  mot  as  I  do: 
"  C'est  un  homme  admirable,  — 11  se  tait  en  sept 
langues ! " ^ 
Letter  to  I  ^^^  gt>ing  to  detail  all  my  troubles  to  you.     In 

MDec.'^i853.  ^'^^  ^^st  jjl^ce,  the  door  of  my  sitting-room  doesn't 
quite  fit,  and  a  draught  is  the  consequence. 
Secondly,  there  is  a  piano  in  the  house  which 
has  decidedly  entered  on  its  second  childhood, 
and  this  piano  is  occasionally  played  on  by  Miss 
P.  with  a  really  enviable  aijloml.  Thirdly,  the 
knocks  at  the  door  startle  me,  —  an  annoyance 
inseparable  from  a  ground-floor  room.  Fourthly, 
Mrs.  P.  scolds  the  servants  stri7igendo  e  fortissimo 
while  I  am  dressing  in  the  morning.  Fifthly,  — 
there  is  no  fifthly.  I  really  have  not  another  diS'. 
comfort  when  I  am  v/ell,  which,  alas !  I  have  not 
been  for  the  last  ten  days ;  so,  while  I  have  been 
up  to  the  chin   in  possibilities   of  enjoyment,   I 

1  Advertis'^d  in  1P5.3-54   as  to  appear  hv  "Marfan  Evans"  in 
Chapman's  Quarterly  Series,  but  never  published. 

2  Lord  Acton  tells  me   he   first  heard   this   bon   mot,   in    1855, 
related  of  Immanuel  Bekker,  the  philologist. 


1854.]  Meets  Arthur  Helps.  241 

iiave  been   too  sick  and  headachy  to   use  them. 
One  thing  is  needful,  —  a  good  digestion. 

Spent  Christmas  Day  alone  at  Cambridge  Street.  Letter  to 
How  shall  I  thank  you  enough  for  sending  me  that  ?sthDecf' 
splendid  barrel  of  beet-root,  so  nicely  packed  ?  I  ^^^' 
shall  certainly  eat  it  and  enjoy  it,  which,  I  fancy, 
is  the  end  you  sought,  and  not  thanks.  Don't 
suppose  that  I  am  looking  miserable, — au  con- 
traire.  My  only  complaints  just  now  are  idle- 
ness and  dislike-to-getting-up-in-the-morningness, 
whereby  the  day  is  made  too  short  for  what  I  w'ant 
to  do.  I  resolve  every  day  to  conquer  the  flesh 
the  next,  and,  of  course,  am  a  little  later  in  con- 
sequence. I  dined  with  Arthur  Helps  yesterday 
at  Sir  James  Clark's,  — very  snug,  — only  he  and 
myself.  He  is  a  sleek  man,  with  close-snipped 
hair ;  has  a  quiet,  humorous  way  of  talking,  like 
his  books. 

At  the  beginning  of  January,  1854,  there  was 
another  visit  to  Mrs.  Clarke  at  Attleboro  for 
ten  days. 
In  the  last  number  of  the  "  Scotsman"  which  I  sent  Letter  to 
you,  there  was  a  report  of  a  speech  by  Dr.  Guthrie  tsttTFeb."^*^' 
at  the  Education  meeting,  containing  a  passage 
which  I  meant  to  have  copied.  He  is  speaking  of 
the  impossibility  of  teaching  morality  with  the 
"Bible  shut,"  and  says  that  in  that  case  the 
teacher  would  be  obliged  to  resort  to  "  congruity 
and  the  fitness  of  things, "  about  which  the  boy 
knows  nothing  more  than  that  the  apple  is  fit  for 
his  mouth.  What  is  wanted  to  convince  the  boy 
of  his  sin  is,  "  Thou  God  seest  me, "  and  "  Thou 
bleeding  Lamb,  the  best  morality  is  love  of  Thee  "  ! ! 
Mr.  Lewes  came  a  few  minutes  after  you  left,  and  de- 
sired me  to  tell  you  that  he  was  sorry  to  miss  you. 

VOL.  I —  16 


242 


Mr.  Lewes  III,     [21  Cambridge  st., 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Hough 
tou,  6tfa 
AprU,  1854. 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Bray, 
Saturday, 
ISth  April, 
1854. 


Thank  you  for  your  very  kind  letter,  which  I 
■  received  this  morning.     It  is  pleasant  to  think  of 
you  as  quite  well,  and  enjoying  your  sea  breezes. 

But  do  you  imagine  me  sitting  with  my  hands 
crossed,  ready  to  start  for  any  quarter  of  the  world 
at  the  shortest  notice  ?  It  is  not  on  those  terms 
that  people,  not  rich,  live  in  London.  I  shall  be 
deep  in  proof-sheets  till  the  end  of  May,  and  shall 
only  dismiss  them  to  make  material  for  new  ones. 
I  daresay  you  will  pity  me.  But  as  one  of  Balzac's 
characters  says,  after  maturity,  "  La  vie  n'est  que 
I'exerciced'une  habitude  dans  un  milieu  pr^fdr^ ;  " 
and  I  could  no  more  live  out  of  my  milieu  than  the 
haddocks  I  daresay  you  are  often  having  for  dinner. 

My  health  is  better.  I  had  got  into  a  labyrinth 
of  headaches  and  palpitations,  but  I  think  I  am  out 
of  it  now,  and  I  hope  to  keep  well.  I  am  not  the 
less  obliged  to  you,  dear  Fanny,  for  wishing  to 
have  me  with  you.  But  to  leave  London  now 
would  not  be  agreeable  to  me,  even  if  it  were 
morally  possible.  To  see  you  again  would  cer- 
tainly be  a  pleasure,  but  I  hope  that  will  come  to 
pass  without  my  crossing  the  Irish  Channel. 

I  am  rather  overdone  with  the  week's  work,  and 
the  prospect  of  what  is  to  come  next.  Poor  Lewes 
is  ill,  and  is  ordered  not  to  put  pen  to  paper  for 
a  month;  so  I  have  something  to  do  for  him  in 
addition  to  my  own  work,  which  is  rather  press- 
ing. He  is  gone  to  Arthur  Helps,  in  Hampshire, 
for  ten  days,  and  I  really  hope  this  total  cessation 
from  work,  in  obedience  to  a  peremptory  order, 
will  end  in  making  him  better  than  he  has  been 
for  the  last  year.  No  opera  and  no  fun  for  me 
for  the  next  month !  Happily  I  shall  have  no 
time  to  regret  it.     Plenty  of  bright  sun  on  your 


1854.]  Seclusion.  243 

anemone  bed.  How  lovely  your  place  must  look 
with  its  fresh  leaves ! 

It  is  quite  possible  that  I  may  wish  to  go  to  the  Letter  to 
Continent,  or  twenty  other  things.      Mr.  Lewes  is  ^d^ni^"^' 
going  on  a  walking  excursion  to  Windsor  to-day  ^^^" 
with  his  doctor,  who  pronounces  him  better,  but 
not  yet  fit  for  work.     However,  he  is  obliged  to 
do  a  little,   and  must   content   himself   with   an 
ap'pi'oximation  to  his  doctor's  directions.      In  this 
world  all  things  are  approximations,  and  in  the 
system    of    the   Dog   Star    too,    in   spite   of    Dr. 
Whewell. 

My   troubles    are    purely   psychical, — self-dis- Letter  to 
satisfaction,    and    despair   of   achieving   anything  Fdday,"^no 
worth    the   doing.     I   can  truly  say  they  vanish    "^  ^' 
into  nothing  before  any  fear  for  the  happiness  of 
those  I  love.     Thank  you  for  letting  me  know  how 
things  are,  for  indeed  I  could  not  bear  to  be  shut 
out  from  your  anxieties.     Wlien  I  spoke  of  myself 
as  an  island,  I  did  not  mean  that  I  was  so  excep- 
tionally.    We  are  all  islands,  — 

"  Each  in  his  hidden  sphere  of  joy  or  woe. 

Our  hermit  spirits  dwell  and  roam  apart,"  — 

and  this  seclusion  is  sometimes  the  most  intensely 
felt  at  the  very  moment  your  friend  is  caressing 
you  or  consoling  you.  But  this  gradually  becomes 
a  source  of  satisfaction  instead  of  repining.  When 
we  are  young,  we  think  our  troubles  a  mighty  busi- 
ness, • —  that  the  world  is  spread  out  expressly  as 
a  stage  for  the  particular  drama  of  our  lives,  and 
that  we  have  a  right  to  rant  and  foam  at  the 
mouth  if  we  are  crossed.  I  have  done  enough  of 
that  in  my  time.  But  we  begin  at  last  to  under- 
stand that  these  things  are  important  only  to  our 


244 


Vestris.  [21  Cambridge  st. 


Latter  to 
Mrs.  Bray, 
Friday,  no 
date,  1854. 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Bray, 
Tuesday, 
Gth  June, 
1854. 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Bray, 
Wednesday, 
28th  June, 
1851. 


own  consciousness,  which  is  but  as  a  globule  of  dew 
on  a  rose-leaf,  that  at  mid-day  there  will  be  no 
trace  of.  This  is  no  high-flown  sentimentality, 
but  a  simple  reflection,  which  I  find  useful  to  me 
every  day.  I  expect  to  see  Mr.  Lewes  back  again 
to-day.  His  poor  head  —  his  only  fortune  —  is 
not  well  yet;  and  he  has  had  the  misery  of  being 
ennuye  with  idleness,  without  perceiving  the  com- 
pensating physical  improvement.  Still,  I  hope 
the  good  he  has  been  getting  has  been  greater  than 
he  has  been  conscious  of.  I  expect  "  Feuerbach" 
will  be  all  in  print  by  the  end  of  next  week,  and 
there  are  no  skippings,  except  such  as  have  been 
made  on  very  urgent  grounds. 

Thanks  for  your  assurance  of  welcome.  I  will 
trust  to  it  when  the  gods  send  favourable  circum- 
stances. But  I  see  no  probability  of  my  being 
able  to  be  with  you  before  your  other  midsummer 
visitors  arrive.  I  delight  to  think  that  you  are 
all  a  little  more  cheery. 

I  reached  the  Euston  Station  as  dusty  as  an  old 
ledger,  but  with  no  other  "  incommodity.  "  I  went 
to  the  Lyceum  last  night  to  see  "  Sunshine  through 
the  Clouds,"  ^  a  wonderfully  original  and  beautiful 
piece  by  Mme.  de  Girardin,  which  makes  one  cry 
rather  too  much  for  pleasure.  Vestris  acts  finely 
the  bereaved  mother,  passing  through  all  the  gra- 
dations of  doubt  and  hope  to  the  actual  recovery  of 
her  lost  son.  My  idea  of  you  is  rather  bright  just 
now,  and  really  helps  to  make  me  enjoy  all  that 
is  enjoyable.  That  is  part  of  the  benefit  I  have 
had  from  my  pleasant  visit,  which  was  made  up 
of  sunshine,  green  fields,  pleasant  looks,  and  good 

1  Translaterl  and  adapted  from  the  French,  "  La  joie  fait  peur," 
by  Mr.  Lewes,  under  the  name  of  Slingsby  Lawrence. 


1854.]  Translation  of  Fcuerhach.  245 

eatables,  —  an  excellent  compound.  Will  you  be 
so  kind  as  to  send  my  books  by  railway,  ivithout 
the  Shelley  ? 

Pray  consider  the  Strauss  MSS.  waste  paper,     /Letter to 
shall  never  want  them  again.     I  dined  with  your  Moudayf^' 
old    acquaintance,    Dr.    ConoUy,    at    Sir     James  i^"!"'^' 
Clark's,    the    other   day.      He    took    me  down    to 
dinner,   and  we  talked  of  you. 

The  translation  of  Ludwigreuerbach's"Wesen 
des  Christenthums  "  was  published  in  July  in 
Chapman's  Quarterly  Series,  with  Miss  Evans's 
name  on  the  titlepageas  the  translator;  the  first 
and  only  time  her  real  name  appeared  in  print. 
I  am  going  to  pack  up  the  Hebrew  Grammar,  the  Letter  to 

A  1      T    /"(  1  1  ;  ,        m  ■     •  .       ^        Miss  Sara 

Apocryphal  (iospels,  and  your  pretty  iitian,  to  be  Hemieii, 
sent  to  you.  Shall  I  despatch  them  by  rail  or  i854.  '^^' 
deposit  them  with  Mr.  Chapman  to  be  asked  for 
by  Mr.  Bray  when  he  comes  to  town  ?  I  shall 
soon  send  you  a  good-bye,  for  I  am  preparing  to 
go  abroad  ( ?).  Herbert  Spencer's  article  on  the 
Genesis  of  Science  is  a  good  one.  He  will  stand  in 
the  Biographical  Dictionaries  of  1954  as  "  Spencer, 
Herbert,  an  original  and  profound  philosophical 
writer,  especially  known  by  his  great  work,  .  .  , 
which  gave  a  new  impulse  to  psychology,  and  haa 
mainly  contributed  to  the  present  advanced  posi- 
tion of  that  science,  compared  with  that  which  it 
had  attained  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century. 
The  life  of  this  philosopher,  like  that  of  the  great 
Kant,  offers  little  material  for  the  narrator.  Born 
in  the  year  1820,"  &c. 

Dear  friends,  — all  three,  — I  have  only  time  to  ^^^'""tothe 

'  '  •'  Brays,  20th 

say  good-bye,  and  God  bless  you.     Foste  Bestante,  Juiy,  1854. 
Weimar,   for  the  next  six  weeks,    and  afterwards 
Berlin.      Ever  your  loving  and  grateful  Marian. 


246  Union  with  Mr.  Lewes.  [london, 

We  have  now  been  led  up  to  the  most  impor- 
tant event  in  George  Eliot's  life,  — ^her  union 
with  Mr.  George  Henry  Lewes.  Here,  as  else- 
where, it  seems  to  me  to  be  of  the  first  import- 
ance that  she  should  speak  for  herself ;  and 
there  is,  fortunately,  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Bray,  dated 
in  September,  1855,  —  fourteen  months  after 
the  event,  —  which  puts  on  record  the  point  of 
view  from  which  she  regarded  her  own  action. 
I  give  this  letter  here  (out  of  its  place  as  to 
date) ;  and  I  may  add  —  what,  I  think,  has  not 
been  mentioned  before  —  that  not  only  was 
Mr.  Lewes 's  previous  family  life  irretrievably 
spoiled,  but  his  home  had  been  wholly  broken 
up  for  nearly  two  years.  In  forming  a  judgment 
on  so  momentous  a  question,  it  is  above  all 
things  necessary  to  understand  what  was  actually 
undertaken,  —  what  was  actually  achieved,  — 
and,  in  my  opinion,  this  can  best  be  arrived 
at,  not  from  any  outside  statement  or  argu- 
ments, but  by  consideration  of  the  whole  tenor 
of  the  life  which  follows,  in  the  development 
of  which  Mr.  Lewes 's  true  character,  as  well 
as  George  Eliot's,  will  unfold  itself.  No  words 
that  any  one  else  can  write,  no  arguments  any 
one  else  can  use,  will,  I  think,  be  so  impressive 
as  the  life  itself. 
Letter  to  If  there  is  any  one  action  or  relation  of  my  life 
4trsep'ty'  which  is  and  always  has  been  profoundly  serious, 
it  is  my  relation  to  Mr.  Lewes.  It  is,  however, 
natural  enough  that  you  should  mistake  me  in 
many  ways,  for  not  only  are  you  unacquainted 
with  Mr.  Lewes 's  real  character  and  the  course  of 
his  actions,  but  also  it  is  several  years  now  since 
you  and  I  were  much  together,  and  it  is  possible 


1855, 


1855.]  Union  with  Mr.  Lewes.  247 

that   the   modifications  my  mind  has   undergone  Letter  to 

,  .  T  .•  i;         1      i.    Mrs.  Bray, 

may  be  quite  in  the  opposite  direction  oi  what  4tii  sept. 
you  imagine.  No  one  can  be  better  aware  than 
yourself  that  it  is  possible  for  two  people  to  hold 
different  opinions  on  momentous  subjects  with 
equal  sincerity,  and  an  equally  earnest  conviction 
that  their  respective  opinions  are  alone  the  truly 
moral  ones.  If  we  differ  on  the  subject  of  the 
marriage  laws,  I  at  least  can  believe  of  you  that 
you  cleave  to  what  you  believe  to  be  good;  and  I 
don't  know  of  anything  in  the  nature  of  your 
views  that  should  prevent  you  from  believing 
the  same  of  me.  How  far  we  differ,  I  think  v/e 
neither  of  us  know,  for  I  am  ignorant  of  your  pre- 
cise views ;  and  apparently  you  attribute  to  me 
both  feelings  and  opinions  which  are  not  mine. 
We  cannot  set  each  other  quite  right  in  this  mat- 
ter in  letters,  but  one  thing  I  can  tell  you  in  few 
words.  Light  and  easily  broken  ties  are  what  I 
neither  desire  theoretically  nor  could  live  for  prac- 
tically. Women  who  are  satisfied  with  such  ties 
do  not  act  as  I  have  done.  That  any  unworldly, 
unsuperstitious  person  who  is  sufficiently  ac- 
quainted with  the  realities  of  life  can  pronounce 
my  relation  to  Mr.  Lewes  immoral,  I  can  only 
understand  by  remembering  how  subtle  and  com- 
plex are  the  influences  that  mould  opinion.  But 
I  do  remember  this :  and  I  indulge  in  no  arro- 
gant or  uncharitable  thoughts  about  those  who  con- 
demn us,  even  though  we  might  have  expected  a 
somewhat  different  verdict.  From  the  majority  of 
persons,  of  course,  we  never  looked  for  anything  but 
condemnation.  We  are  leading  no  life  of  self-indul- 
gence, except  indeed  that,  being  happy  in  each 
other,  we  find  everything  easy.     We  are  working 


K 


1855. 


248  Union  with  Mr.  Lewes. 

Letter  to      hard  to  provide  for  others  better  than  we  provid? 

4tirsept'!^'  for  ourselves,  and  to  fulfil  every  responsibility  that 
lies  upon  us.  Levity  and  pride  would  not  be  a 
sufficient  basis  for  that.  Pardon  me  if,  in  vindi- 
cating myself  from  some  unjust  conclusions,  I 
seem  too  cold  and  self-asserting.  I  should  not 
care  to  vindicate  myself  if  I  did  not  love  you  and 
desire  to  relieve  you  of  the  pain  which  you  say 
these  conclusions  have  given  you.  Whatever  I 
may  have  misinterpreted  before,  I  do  not  misin- 
terpret your  letter  this  morning,  but  read  in  it 
nothing  else  than  love  and  kindness  towards  me, 
to  which  my  heart  fully  answers  yes.  I  should 
like  never  to  write  about  myself  again ;  it  is  not 
healthy  to  dwell  on  one's  own  feelings  and  con- 
duct, but  only  to  try  and  live  more  faithfully  and 
lovingly  every  fresh  day.  I  think  not  one  of  the 
endless  words  and  deeds  of  kindness  and  forbear- 
ance you  have  ever  shown  me  has  vanished  from 
my  memory.  I  recall  them  often,  and  feel,  as 
about  everything  else  in  the  past,  how  deficient 
I  have  been  in  almost  every  relation  of  my  life. 
But  that  deficiency  is  irrevocable,  and  I  can  find 
no  strength  or  comfort  except  in  "  pressing  forward 
towards  the  things  that  are  before,"  and  trying  to 
make  the  present  better  than  the  past.  .♦  But  if  we 
should  never  be  very  near  each  other  again,  dear 
Cara,  do  bear  this  faith  in  your  mind,  that  I  was 
not  insensible  or  ungrateful  to  all  your  goodness, 
and  that  I  am  one  amongst  the  many  for  whom 
you  have  not  lived  in  vain.  I  am  very  busy  just 
now,  and  have  been  obliged  to  write  hastily. 
Bear  this  in  mind,  and  believe  that  no  meaning 
is  mine  which  contradicts  my  assurance  that  I  am 
your  affectionate  and  earnest  friend. 


Summary  uf  Chapter   V.  249 


SUMMARY, 

.  MAKCH,    1850,   TO   JULY,    1854. 

Return  to  England  with  M.  D'Albert  —  Depressing  effect  of 
change  —  Visit  to  Kosehill — Visit  to  brother  and  sister  at  Griff 
and  Merideu  —  Deeper  depression  —  To  Rosehill  again  with  M. 
D'Albert  —  Makes  her  home  there  for  sixteen  months  —  Reviews 
MacJia^^'s  "  Progress  of  tlie  Intidleet "  in  "  Westminster  "  —  Meets 
Mr.  Chapman,  the  editor  of  the  "  Westminster  "  —  Helps  to  settle 
Prospectus  of  new  series  of  the  "Review"  —  Visits  Robert  Noel 
at  Bishop  Steiguton  witli  Mrs.  Eray  —  Visit  to  London —  Crystal 
Palace  —  Returns  to  Rosehill,  and  meets  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George 
Combe  —  Goes  to  London  as  assistant  editor  of  the  "  Westminster 
Review  "  —  Letters  to  Brays  —  Review  writing :  Dr.  Braliant, 
Foxton,  Wilson — Meets  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  —  Miss  Martiueau 

—  Distractions  of  Loudon  —  Low  health  —  Miss  Bremer  —  In- 
troduction to  Mr.  Lewes  —  Opinion  of  House  of  Lords  —  Carlyle's 
"  Life  of  Sterling"  —  Carlyle  anecdotes  —  Mackay — James  Mar- 
tiueau —  J.  H.  Newman's  Lectures  —  Translation  of  Schleiermacher 

—  Letter  from  Carlyle  —  Intimacy  begins  with  Mr.  Lewes  — 
Reviews  Carlyle's  "  Sterling"  in  "Westminster  " — Visit  to  Rose- 
hill—  Returns  to  Strand — Harriet  Martineau  —  Pierre  Leroux  — 
Louis  Blanc  —  Miss  Bessie  Parkes  —  Mrs.  Peter  Taylor  —  "Mar- 
garet Fuller's  Life  "  —  Description  of  "  Westminster  "  reviewers 

—  Growing  intimacy  with  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  —  Meeting  of 
authors  and  booksellers  at  Mr.  Chapman's  —  Admiration  of  Prince 
Albert  —  Grisi — Hack  work  of  "Review"  —  Appreciation  of 
Miss  Martineau's  writings  —  Singing  of  Cliarity  children  at  St. 
Paul's  —  George  Combe's  opinion  of  "  Westminster  "  editing  — 
Barbara  Leigh  Smith  —  Visit  to  Broadstairs  —  Florence  Nightin- 
gale —  Return  to  Strand  —  Depression  —  Professor  Owen  on  the 
Cerebellum  —  Visit  to  Combes  at  Edinburgh,  and  to  Harriet  Mar- 
tineau at  Ambleside  —  Return  to  London  —  Reading  "  Esmond  " 

—  Lord  Brougham's  speech  —  Work  in  Strand  —  Bryant  —  Visit 
to  Rosehill  —  Death  of  Edward  Clarke  —  Visit  to  widowed  sister 
at  Meriden — Return  to  Strand  —  Letter  to  Mrs.  Peter  Taylor  — 
Views  on  America  —  "  Ruth  "  —  Visit  to  Rosehill  and  to  Mrs. 
Clarke  at  Attleboro  —  Return  to  Strand  —  Reading  "  Villette  "  — 
Letter  from  Mrs.  Stowe  to  Mrs.  Follen — Meets  Huxley  —  Thinks 
of  going  to  Australia  to  settle  Mrs.  Clarke  —  Admiration  of  Helen 
Faucit  —  Growing  regard  for  Mr.  Lewes  —  Kindness  of  Sir  James 


250  Summary  of  Chapter   V. 

Clark  —  Visit  to  Ockley  —  Change  to  St.  Leonards  —  Improve- 
ment in  health  —  Return  to  Strand  —  Spencer's  "  Universal  Pos- 
tulate"—  Removal  to  21  Cambridge  Street  —  Leigh  Hunt's 
"Religion  of  the  Heart" — Dawes,  Lean  of  Hereford  —  Harriet 
Martiiieau  —  Comte  —  Contemplates  publishing  "The  Idea  of  a 
Future  Life"  —  Meets  Arthur  Helps — Intimate  relations  with 
Mr.  Lewes  —  Translation  of  Feuerbach  —  Visit  to  Rosehill  — 
Return  to  London  —  Feuerbach  completed  —  Estimate  of  Herbert 
Spencer  —  Good-bye  to  Brays  —  Union  with  Mr.  Lewes — Letter 
to  Mrs.  Bray  thereon. 


CHAPTEE  VL 

I  SAID  a  last  farewell  to  Cambridge  Street  on  20th  joumai, 
July,  1854,  and  found  myself  on  board  the  Eavens-  it;54.  ^' 
bourne,  bound  for  Antwerp.  The  day  was  glo- 
rious, and  our  passage  perfect.  The  sunset  was 
lovely,  but  still  lovelier  the  dawn  as  we  were 
passing  up  the  Scheldt  between  two  and  three  in 
the  morning.  The  crescent  moon,  the  stars,  the 
first  faint  blush  of  the  dawn  reflected  in  the  glassy 
river,  the  dark  mass  of  clouds  on  the  horizon, 
which  sent  forth  flashes  of  lightning,  and  the 
graceful  forms  of  the  boats  and  sailing-vessels, 
painted  in  jet-black  on  the  reddish  gold  of  the 
sky  and  water,  made  up  an  unforgettable  picture. 
Then  the  sun  rose  and  lighted  up  the  sleepy  shores 
of  Belgium,  with  their  fringe  of  long  grass,  their 
rows  of  poplars,  their  church-spires  and  farm- 
buildings. 

The  great  treat  at  Antwerp  was  the  sight  of  the  2istJuiy. 
Descent  from  the  Cross,  which,  with  its  pendant, 
the  Elevation  of  the  Cross,  has  been  undergoing 
restoration.  In  the  latter,  the  face  of  Jesus  is 
sublime  in  its  expression  of  agony  and  trust  in 
the  Divine.  It  is  certainly  the  finest  conception 
of  the  suffering  Christ  I  have  ever  seen.  The  rest 
of  the  picture  gave  me  no  pleasure.  But  in  the 
Descent  from  the  Cross,  colour,  form,  and  expres- 
sion alike  impressed  me  with  the  sense  of  grandeur 
and  beauty.  A  little  miserable  copy  of  the  picture 
placed  near  it  served  as  an  admirable  foil. 


252 


Tlie  Dichter  Zimmer. 


[WEIMAE 


Journal, 
L'-Jd  July. 


30th  July. 


Weimar, 


We  went  to  the  museum  and  sawEubens's  Cruci- 
fixion, even  more  beautiful  to  me  than  the  Descent 
from  the  Cross.  These  two  pictures  profoundly 
impressed  me  with  the  miserable  lack  of  breadth 
and  grandeur  in  the  conceptions  of  our  living 
artists.  The  reverence  for  the  old  masters  is  not 
all  huml)ug  and  superstition. 

We  breakfasted  in  the  public  room  at  the  hotel 
at  Cologne,  and  were  joined  there  by  Dr.  Brabant 
and  Strauss.  After  a  short  interview  with  them, 
we  went  on  board  the  steamboat  which  was  to 
take  us  to  Coblentz. 

It  was  very  pretty  to  look  out  of  the  window, 

Aug!-oct?°'  when  dressing,  on  a  garden  that  reminded  one  of 

^****  an  English  village :  the  town  is  more  like  a  huge 

village,  or  market-town,   than  the  precincts  of  a 

court. 

G.  called  on  Scholl,  and  in  the  afternoon  he 
(Sch()ll)  came  and  took  us  to  the  Schloss,  where 
we  saw  the  Dichter  Zimmer,  —  a  suite  of  rooms 
dedicated  to  Goethe,  Schiller,  and  Wieland.  In 
each  room  there  is  the  bust  of  the  poet  who  is  its 
presiding  genius  ;  and  the  walls  of  the  Goethe  and 
Schiller  rooms  are  decorated  with  frescos,  repre- 
senting scenes  from  their  works.  The  Wieland 
room  is  decorated  with  arabesques  only.  The 
idea  of  these  rooms  is  a  very  pretty  one,  but 
the  frescos  are  badly  executed.  I  am  delighted 
with  Scholl.  He  is  a  bright-looking,  well-made 
German,  with  his  head  finely  set  on  his  shoulders, 
very  little  like  a  German.  We  discovered,  after 
we  had  known  him  some  time,  that  he  is  an 
Austrian,  and  so  has  more  southern  blood  in  his 
veins  than  the  heavy  Thuringians.  His  manners 
are  hearty  and  cordial,  and  his  conversation  really 


1854.]  Excursion  to  Mtershurg.  253 

instructive :    his    ideas  are  so  thoroughly  shaped  weimar, 

,  ,       .       ,  ,  1  M  -1  Description, 

and  so  admirably  exj^ressed.  feauppe  is  also  a  Aug.-oct. 
Gelehrter,  Director  of  the  Gymnasium,  and  editor 
of  a  series  of  Classics  which  are  being  brought 
out;  and  he  is  evidently  thought  a  great  deal  of  in 
Weimar.  We  went  with  the  Scholls  and  Sauppes 
to  Tiefurt,  and  saw  the  queer  little  Schloss  which 
used  to  be  Amalia's  residence.  Tiefurt  was  a 
favourite  resort  of  ours,  for  the  walk  to  it  is  a 
very  pleasant  one,  and  the  Tiefurt  park  is  a  little 
paradise.  The  Ilm  is  seen  here  to  the  best  advan- 
tage :  it  is  clearer  than  at  Weimar,  and  winds 
about  gracefully  among  fine  trees.  One  of  the 
banks  is  a  high  steep  declivity,  which  shows  the 
trees  in  all  their  perfection.  In  autumn,  when 
the  yellow  and  scarlet  were  at  their  brightest, 
these  banks  were  fairy-like  in  their  beauty.  It 
was  here  that  Goethe  and  his  Court  friends  got 
up  the  performance  of  "  Die  Fischerin  "  by  torch- 
light. 

About  ten  days  after  our  arrival  at  Weimar,  we 
made  an  excursion  to  Ettersburg,  one  of  the  Duke's 
summer  residences,  interesting  to  us  beforehand 
as  the  scene  of  private  theatricals  and  sprees  in 
the  Goethe  days.  We  carried  provisions  with  us 
and  Keats 's  poems.  The  morning  was  one  of  the 
brightest  and  hottest  that  August  ever  bestowed, 
and  it  required  some  resolution  to  trudge  along  the 
shadeless  chaiissee,  which  formed  the  first  two  or 
three  miles  of  our  way.  One  compensating  pleas- 
ure was  the  sight  of  the  beautiful  mountain  ashes 
in  full  berry  which,  alternately  with  cherry-trees, 
border  the  road  for  a  considerable  distance.  I  felt 
a  child's  love  for  the  bunches  of  coral  standing 
out  against  the  blue  sky.      The  Schloss  is  a  house 


254  Arthur  Hdjps.  [weimak, 

Weimar,  of  Very  moderate  size,  and  no  pretension  of  any 
Aug'-oit°°'  kind.  Two  liights  of  steps  lead  up  to  the  door,  and 
'*^-  the   balustrades    are    ornamented   with    beautiful 

creepers.  A  tiny  sort  of  piazza  under  the  steps 
is  ornamented  with  creepers  too,  and  has  pretty 
earthenware  vases  filled  with  plants  hanging  from 
the  ceiling.  We  felt  how  much  beauty  might 
be  procured  at  small  expense  in  looking  at  these 
things.  A  beautiful  walk  through  a  beechwood 
took  us  to  the  Mooshutte,  before  which  stands  the 
beech  whereon  Goethe  and  his  friends  cut  their 
names,  and  from  which  Goethe  denounced  Walde- 
mar.  We  could  recognise  some  of  the  initials. 
With  Ettersburg  I  shall  always  associate  Arthur 
Helps,  for  he  was  with  us  on  the  second  and  last 
time  we  saw  it.  He  came  to  Weimar  quite  unex- 
pectedly on  the  29th  August,  and  the  next  even- 
ing we  nil  three  drove  to  Ettersburg.  He  said 
the  country  just  round  Weimar  reminded  him  of 
Spain.  This  led  him  to  talk  of  his  Spanish 
travels,  and  he  told  us  some  delightful  stories  in 
a  delightful  way.  At  one  inn  he  was  considerably 
embarrassed  in  eating  his  dinner  by  the  presence 
of  a  handsome  woman,  who  sat  directly  opposite 
to  him,  resting  on  her  elbows,  and  fixing  her  dark 
eyes  on  him  with  a  fearful  intensity  of  interest. 
This  woman  was  the  cook,  anxious  to  know  that 
licr  dishes  were  acceptable  to  the  stranger.  Under 
this  tei-rible  surveillance,  he  did  not  dare  to  omit 
a  single  dish,  though  sorely  longing  to  do  so. 

Our  greatest  expedition  from  Weimar  was  to 
Ilnienau.  We  set  out  with  a  determination  to 
find  the  Gabel-Bach  and  Kickel-hahn  (Goethe's 
residence)  without  the  incumbrance  of  a  guide. 
We  found  the  man  who  inhabits  the  simple  wooden 


1854.]  Expedition  to  Hmenau.  255 

house,  which  used  to  be  Carl  August's  hunting-  weimar, 
box.      He  sent  a  man  on  with   us  to  show  us  the  Aug"oct'*' 
way  to  the  Kickel-hahn,  which  we  at  last  reached,  ^^^' 
—  I  with  weary  legs.     There  is  a  magnificent  view 
of  hills  from  this  spot;  but  Goethe's  tiny  wooden 
house    is    now   closely    shut   in   by  fir-trees,    and 
uothiug   can    be   seen    from    the    windows.     His 
room,  which  forms  the  upper  floor  of  the  house, 
is  about   ten   or  twelve  feet  square.      It   is    now 
quite  empty,  but  there  is  an  interesting  memorial 
of  his  presence  in  these  wonderful  lines,  written 
by  his  own  hand,  near  the  window-frame,  — 

"  Ueber  alien  Gipfeln 
1st  Ruh, 

In  alien  Wipfeln 
Spiirest  du 
Kaum  einen  Hauch ; 
Die  Vogelein  schweigen  im  Walde. 
Warte  nur,  balde 
Euhest  du  auch." 

We  wrote  our  names  near  one  of  the  windows. 

About  the  middle  of  September  the  theatre 
opened,  and  w^e  went  to  hear  "  Ernani. "  Liszt 
looked  splendid  as  he  conducted  the  opera.  The 
grand  outline  of  his  face  and  floating  hair  were 
seen  to  advantage  as  they  were  thrown  into  dark 
relief  by  the  stage  lamps.  We  were  so  fortunate 
as  to  have  all  three  of  Wagner's  most  celebrated 
operas  while  we  were  at  Weimar.  G. ,  however, 
had  not  patience  to  sit  out  more  than  two  acts  of 
"  Lohengrin  ;"  and,  indeed,  I  too  was  weary.  The 
declamation  appeared  to  me  monotonous,  and  situ- 
ations, in  themselves  trivial  or  disagreeable,  were 
dwelt  on  fatiguingly.  Without  feeling  competent 
to  pass  a  judgment  on  this  opera  as  music,   one 


256  Wagner's  Operas.  [weimar, 

Weimar,  may  veiiture  to  say  that  it  fails  in  one  grand 
Aug!-oct°"'  requisite  of  art,  based  on  an  unchangeable  element 
^^^  in  human  nature,  —  the  need  for  contrast.     With 

the  "  riiegender  Hollander"  I  was  delighted ;  the 
poem  and  the  music  were  alike  charming.     The 
"  Tannhiiuser, "   too,   created  in  me  a  great  desire 
to  hear  it  again.     Many   of   the   situations,    and 
much  of  the  music,  struck  me  as  remarkably  fine. 
And  I  appreciated  these  operas  all  the  better  retro- 
spectively when  we  saw  "  Der  Freischiitz, "  which 
I  had  never  before  heard  and  seen  on  the  stage. 
The  effect  of  the  delicious  music,  with  which  one 
is  so  familiar,  was  completely  spoiled  by  the  ab- 
sence of   recitative  and  the    terrible  lapsus   from 
melody    to    ordinary   speech.      The    bacchanalian 
song   seemed    simply  ridiculous,  sung  at  a  little 
pot-house  table  at  a  party  of  two,  one  of  whom  was 
sunk  in  melancholy;  and   the  absurdity  reached 
a  ne  j^^ns  ultra,    when  Caspar  climbed  the  tree, 
apparently  with  the  sole    purpose   of  being  shot. 
Aprox)os  of  the  theatre,  we  were  immensely  amused 
to  learn  that  a  fair,  small-featured  man,  who  some 
how  always  looked  to  me  as  if  he  had  just  com- 
out  of  the  shell,  had  come  to  Weimar  to  fit  him- 
self for  a  dramatic  writer  by  going  behind    the 
scenes !     He  had  as  yet  written  nothing,  but  was 
going  to  work  in  what  he  considered  a  griXndlich 
way. 

When  we  passed  along  the  Schiller  Strasse,  I 
used  to  be  very  much  thrilled  by  the  inscription, 
"  Hier  wohnte  Schiller,"  over  the  door  of  his  small 
house.  Very  interesting  it  is  to  see  his  study, 
which  is  happily  left  in  its  original  state.  In  h'ig 
bedroom  we  saw  his  skull  for  the  first  time,  and 
were  amazed  at  the  smaUness  of  the  intellectual 


1854.]  Goethe's  House.  257 

region.  There  is  an  intensely  interesting  sketch  weimai, 
of  Schiller  lying  dead,  which  I  saw  for  the  first  Aug'^-oct. 
time  in  the  study ;  but  all  pleasure  in  thinking  of 
Schiller's  portraits  and  bust  is  now  destroyed  to 
me  by  the  conviction  of  their  untruthfulness. 
Eauch  told  us  that  he  had  a  miserable  Stirne.'^ 
Waagen  says  that  Tieck  the  sculptor  told  him 
there  was  something  in  Schiller's  whole  person 
which  reminded  him  of  a  camel. 

Goethe's  house  is  much  more  important-looking, 
but,  to  English  eyes,  far  from  being  the  palatial 
residence  which  some  German  writers  think  it.  The 
entrance-hall  is  certainly  rather  imposing,  with  its 
statues  in  niches  and  broad  staircase.  The  latter 
was  made  after  his  own  design,  and  was  an 
"  aftershine  "  of  Italian  tastes.  The  pictures  are 
wretched,  the  casts  not  much  better,  —  indeed,  I 
remember  nothing  which  seemed  intrinsically 
worth  looking  at.  The  MS.  of  his  "  Romische 
Elegien"  written  by  himself,  in  the  Italian  char- 
acter, is  to  be  seen  here ;  and  one  likes  to  look  at 
it  better  than  at  most  of  the  other  things.  G. 
had  obtained  permission  from  Frau  v.  Goethe  to 
see  the  studio  and  Schlafzimmer,  which  are  not 
open  to  the  public,  and  here  our  feelings  were 
deeply  moved.  We  entered  first  a  small  room 
containing;  drawers  and  shelves  devoted  to  his 
mineralogical  collections.  From  these  we  passed 
into  the  study.  It  is  rather  a  dark  room,  for  there 
are  only  two  small  windows,  — German  windows. 
A  plain  deal  table  stands  in  the  middle,  and  near 
the  chair,  against  this  table,  is  a  high  basket 
where,  I  was  afterwards  told,  Goethe  used  to  put 
his  pocket-handkerchief.      A  long  sort  of  writing- 

1  A  wretched  forehead. 
VOL.   I.  — 17 


1854< 


258  The  Gartenhaus.  [aveimab, 

Weimar,       table  and  bookcase  united  stands  against  one  wall. 

fug?-c?etf°'  Here  hangs  the  pin-cushion,  just  as  he  left  it, 
with  visiting-cards  suspended  on  threads,  and 
other  trifles  which  greatness  and  death  have  made 
sacred.  Against  the  opposite  wall,  where  you 
enter  the  bedroom,  there  is  a  high  writing-desk, 
on  which  stands  a  little  statue  of  Napoleon  in 
creamy  glass.  The  bedroom  is  very  small.  By 
the  side  of  the  bed  stands  a  stuffed  arm-chair, 
where  he  used  to  sit  and  read  while  he  drank  his 
cofi'ee  in  the  morning.  It  was  not  until  very  late 
in  his  life  that  he  adopted  the  luxury  of  an  arm- 
chair. From  the  other  side  of  the  study  one  enters 
the  library,  which  is  fitted  up  in  a  very  makeshift 
fashion,  with  rough  deal  shelves,  and  bits  of  paper, 
with  Philosophy,  History,  &c. ,  written  on  them 
to  mark  the  classification  of  the  books.  Among 
such  memorials  one  breathes  deeply,  and  the  tears 
rush  to  one's  eyes.  There  is  one  likeness  of 
Goethe  that  is  really  startling  and  thrilling  from 
the  idea  it  gives  one  of  perfect  resemblance.  It  is 
painted  on  a  cup,  and  is  a  tiny  miniature,  but  the 
execution  is  so  perfect  that,  on  applying  a  mag- 
nifying-glass,  every  minute  stroke  has  as  natural 
an  appearance  as  the  texture  of  a  flower  or  the 
parts  of  an  insect  under  the  microscope. 

Equally  interesting  is  the  Gartenhaus,  which 
■we  used  to  see  almost  every  day  in  our  walks. 
"Within,  it  is  a  not  uncomfortable  homely  sort  of 
cottage ;  no  furniture  is  left  in  it,  and  the  family 
want  to  sell  it.  It  stands  on  a  pleasant  slope 
fronting  the  west,  and  there  is  a  charming  bit  of 
garden  and  orchard  attached  to  it.  Close  to  the 
garden  hedge  runs  the  road  which  leads  to  Ober 
Weimar,   and  on   the  other   side    of   this   road  a 


1854.]  Walks  at  Weimar.  259 

meadow  stretches  to  the  trees  which  border  the  weimar, 
Ilm.  A  bridge  nearly  opposite  the  Gartenhaus  Aug!-oct°'^ 
takes  one  to  the  Borkenhaus,  Carl  August's  little  ^^^ 
retreat,  from  which  he  used  to  telegraph  to  Goethe, 
The  road  to  Ober  Weimar  was  one  of  our  favourite 
walks,  especially  towards  the  end  of  our  stay  at 
Weimar,  when  we  were  glad  of  all  the  sunshine 
we  could  get.  Sometimes  we  used  to  turn  out 
of  it,  up  a  grove  of  weeping  birches,  into  the 
ploughed  fields  at  the  top  of  the  slope  on  which 
the  Gartenhaus  and  other  little  villas  stand.  Here 
we  enjoyed  many  a  lovely  sunset :  one  in  particu- 
lar was  marvellously  splendid.  The  whole  hemi- 
sphere was  golden,  towards  the  east  tinted  with 
rose  colour.  From  this  little  height  we  looked 
on  the  plantations  of  the  park  in  their  autumnal 
colouring,  the  town,  with  its  steep-roofed  church 
and  its  castle  tower,  coloured  a  gay  green,  the  line 
of  chestnuts  along  the  Belvedere  Chauss^e,  and 
Belvedere  itself  peeping  from  its  nest  of  trees. 

Another  very  favourite  walk  of  mine  was  the 
Wehicht,  a  beautiful  wood  through  which  ran  ex- 
cellent carriage-roads  and  grassy  footpaths.  How 
richly  have  I  enjoyed  skirting  this  wood,  a.nd  see- 
ing, on  the  other  side,  the  sky  arching  grandly 
down  over  the  open  fields,  the  evening  red  flushing 
the  west  over  the  town,  and  the  bright  stars  come 
out  as  if  to  relieve  the  sun  in  his  watch  over 
mortals  !  And  then  the  winding  road  through  the 
Webicht  on  the  side  towards  Tiefurt,  with  its  tall 
overarching  trees  now  bending  their  mossy  trunks 
forward,  now  standing  with  stately  erectness  like 
lofty  pillars ;  and  the  charming  grassy  paths 
through  the  heart  of  the  wood  among  its  silvery- 
barked  birches  !     The  Webicht  lies  towards  Tiefurt, 


16IH. 


260  Ziszt  on  Spontini  [weimak, 

Weimar,      aiid  0116  side  of  it  is  bordered  by  the  road  thither. 

Aug!-oct?°'  I  remember,  as  we  were  returning  from  Tiefurt 
one  evening,  a  beautiful  effect  of  the  setting  sun- 
light pouring  itself  under  the  trees  and  making 
the  road  before  us  almost  crimson. 

One  of  our  pleasantest  accpiaintances  at  Weimar 
was  the  French  Ambassador,  the  Marquis  de  Yai- 
riere,  a  very  favourable  specimen  of  a  frenchman, 
but  intensely  French.  His  genial  soul  and  perfect 
good-humour  gave  one  the  same  sort  of  bicn  etre 
as  a  well-stutfed  arm-chair  and  a  warm  hearth-rug. 
In  the  course  of  conversation,  speaking  of  Yvan's 
accounts  of  Jiis  travels  (the  Marquis  was  tirst  Sec- 
retary to  the  Cliinese  Embassy  which  Yvan  accom- 
panied), he  said,  "  C'dtait  faux  d'un  bout  h.  1 'autre ; 
mais  c'dtait  spirituel,  paradoxal,  amusant,  — entin 
toitt  ce  qu'il  fallait  puur  un  journal. "  Another 
day  he  observed  that  the  famous  words  of  Napoleon 
to  his  Egyptian  army,  "  Forty  centuries  look  down 
on  you  from  the  summits  of  these  pyramids, "  were 
characteristic  of  the  French  national  feeling,  as 
those  of  Nelson,  "  England  expects  the  man  to 
make  his  duty,"  were  of  the  English.  This  is  a 
fair  specimen  of  the  correctness  with  which  one 
generally  hears  English  quoted  ;  and  we  often  re- 
minded ourselves  that  it  was  a  mirror  in  which  we 
might  see  our  own  German. 

Liszt's  conversation  is  charming.  I  never  met 
with  a  person  whose  manner  of  telling  a  story  was 
so  piquant.  The  last  evening  but  one  that  he 
called  on  us,  wishing  to  express  his  pleasure  in 
G.  's  article  about  him,  he  very  ingeniously  con- 
veyed that  expression  in  a  story  about  Spontini 
and  Berlioz.  Spontini  visited  Paris  while  Liszt 
was  living  there,  and  haunted  the  opera,  —  a  stiff, 


H 
N 
CO 


H 


o 


1854.]  Breakfast  at  Liszt's.  261 

self-important  personage,  with  high  shirt-collars,  webnar, 
the  least  attractive  individual  imaginable :  Liszt  Aug^-oct?"^ 
turned  up  his  own  collars,  and  swelled  out  his  ^^^ 
person,  so  as  to  give  us  a  vivid  idea  of  the  man. 
Every  one  would  have  been  glad  to  get  out  of 
Spontini's  way,  —  indeed  elsewhere  "on  feignait 
de  le  croire  mort, "  but  at  Paris,  as  he  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Institute,  it  was  necessary  to  recognise 
his  existence.  Liszt  met  him  at  Erard's  more  than 
once.  On  one  of  these  occasions  Liszt  observed 
to  him  that  Berlioz  was  a  great  a-dmirer  of  his 
(Spontini's),  whereupon  Spontini  burst  into  a  ter- 
rible invective  against  Berlioz  as  a  man  who,  with 
the  like  of  him,  was  ruining  art,  &c.  Shortly  after 
the  "  Vestale  "  was  performed,  and  forthwith  ap- 
peared an  enthusiastic  article  by  Berlioz  on  Spon- 
tini's music.  The  next  time  Liszt  met  him  of  the 
high  collars,  he  said,  "  You  see  I  was  not  wrong 
in  what  I  said  about  Berlioz's  admiration  of  you." 
Spontini  swelled  in  his  collars,  and  replied,  "  Mon- 
sieur, Berlioz  a  du  talent  comme  critique ! " 

Liszt's  replies  were  always  felicitous  and  char- 
acteristic. Talking  of  Mme.  d'Agoult,  he  told 
us  that  when  her  novel,  "Nelida,"  appeared,  in 
which  Liszt  himself  is  pilloried  as  a  delinquent, 
he  asked  her,  "  Mais  pourquoi  avez-vous  tellement 
maltraitd  ce  pauvre  Lehmann  ? "  The  first  time  we 
were  asked  to  breakfast  at  his  house,  the  Alten- 
burg,  we  were  shown  into  the  garden,  where,  in  a 
saloon  formed  by  overarching  trees,  the  dejeuner 
was  set  out.  We  found  Hoffmann  von  Fallersleben, 
the  lyric  poet.  Dr.  Schade,  — a  Gelehrter,  and  Cor- 
nelius. Presently  came  a  Herr  —  or  Doctor  — 
Eaff,  a  musician,  who  has  recently  published  a 
volume  called  "  Wagnerfrage. "     Soon  after  we  were 


262  Liszt's  Playing.  [weimar, 

Weimar,  joined  by  Liszt  and  the  Princess  Marie,  an  ele- 
Aug!-oct"'  gant,  gentle-looking  girl  of  seventeen,  and  last  by 
^^^'  the    Princess    V/ittgenstein,    with    her    nephew, 

Prince  Eugene,  and  a  young  French  artist,  a  pupil 
of  Scheffer.  The  Princess  was  tastefully  dressed 
in  a  morning  robe  of  some  semi-transparent  white 
material,  lined  with  orange  colour,  which  formed 
the  bordering  and  ornamented  the  sleeves,  a  black 
lace  jacket,  and  a  piquant  cap  set  on  the  summit 
of  her  comb,  and  trimmed  with  violet  colour. 
When  the  cigars  came,  Hoffmann  was  requested 
to  read  some  of  his  poetry,  and  he  gave  us  a  bac- 
chanalian poem  with  great  spirit.  I  sat  next  to 
Liszt,  and  my  great  delight  was  to  watch  him  and 
observe  the  sweetness  of  his  expression.  Genius, 
benevolence,  and  tenderness  beam  from  his  whole 
countenance,  and  his  manners  are  in  perfect  har- 
mony with  it.  Then  came  the  thing  I  had  longed 
for,  —  his  playing.  I  sat  near  him,  so  that  I  could 
see  both  his  hands  and  face.  For  the  first  time  in 
my  life  I  beheld  real  inspiration,  —  for  the  first  time 
I  heard  the  true  tones  of  the  piano.  He  played 
one  of  his  own  compositions,  —  one  of  a  series  of 
religious  fantasies.  There  was  nothing  strange  or 
excessive  about  his  manner.  His  manipulation 
of  the  instrument  was  quiet  and  easy,  and  his  face 
was  simply  grand,  —  the  lips  compressed  and  the 
head  thrown  a  little  backward.  When  the  music 
expressed  quiet  rapture  or  devotion,  a  sweet  smile 
flitted  over  his  features ;  when  it  was  triumphant, 
the  nostrils  dilated.  There  was  nothing  petty  or 
egoistic  to  mar  the  picture.  Why  did  not  Scheffer 
paint  him  thus,  instead  of  representing  him  as  one 
of  the  three  Mngi  ?  But  it  just  occurs  to  me  that 
Scheffer's  idea  was  a  sublime  one.      There  arc  tlic 


1854.]  Lisfit's  Trophies.  263 

two  aged  men  who  have  spent  their  lives  in  trying  weimar, 
to  unravel  the  destinies  of  the  world,  and  who  are  Aug"-o"t°"' 
looking  for  the  Deliverer,  —  for  the  light  from  on  ^^^' 
high.      Their  young  fellow-seeker,  having  the  fresh 
inspiration  of  early  life,  is  the  first  to  discern  the 
herald  star,  and  his  ecstasy  reveals  it  to  his  com- 
panions.     In  this  young  Magus,  Scheffer  has  given 
a  portrait  of  Liszt ;  but  even  here,  where  he  might 
be   expected  to    idealise    unrestrainedly,    he    falls 
short  of  the  original.      It  is  curious   that  Liszt's 
face  is   the  type  that  one  sees  in  all  Scheffer's 
pictures, — at  least,   in  all  I  have  seen. 

In  a  little  room  which  terminates  the  suite  at 
the  Altenburg,  there  is  a  portrait  of  Liszt,  also  by 
Scheffer,  —  the  same  of  which  the  engraving  is 
familiar  to  every  one.  This  little  room  is  filled 
with  memorials  of  Liszt's  triumphs  and  the  wor- 
ship his  divine  talent  has  won.  It  was  arranged 
for  him  by  the  Princess,  in  conjunction  with  the 
Arnims,  in  honour  of  his  birthday.  There  is  a 
medallion  of  him  by  Schwanthaler,  a  bust  by  an 
Italian  artist,  also  a  medallion  by  Eietschl, —  very 
fine,  —  and  cabinets  full  of  jewels  and  precious 
things,  —  the  gifts  of  the  great.  In  the  music 
salon  stand  Beethoven's  and  Mozart's  pianos. 
Beethoven's  was  a  present  from  Broadwood,  and 
has  a  Latin  inscription  intimating  that  it  was 
presented  as  a  tribute  to  his  illustrious  genius. 
One  evening  Liszt  came  to  dine  with  us  at  the 
Erb  Prinz,  and  introduced  M.  Ptubinstein,  a  young 
Russian,  who  is  about  to  have  an  opera  of  his 
performed  in  Weimar.  Our  expenses  at  Weimar, 
including  wine  and  washing,  were  £2  6-s.  per 
week.  Dear  Weimar !  We  were  sorry  to  say  good- 
bye to  it,  with  its  pleasant  group  of  friends.     On 


264 


Impressions  of  Berlin. 


[berlin, 


Berlin,  Rec- 
ollectious, 
Nov.  1S54, 
to  March, 
1»55. 


the  4th  of  November,  after  a  stay  of  just  three 
months,  we  turned  our  backs  on  it  "  to  seek  fresh 
streets  and  faces  new  "  at  Berlin. 

There  are  certain  persons  without  any  physiog- 
nomy, the  catalogue  of  whose  features,  as  item  a 
Eoman  nose,  item  a  pair  of  black  eyes,  &c. ,  gives 
you  the  entire  contents  of  their  faces.  There  is 
no  difference  of  opinion  about  the  looks  of  such 
people.  All  the  world  is  agreed  either  that  they 
are  pretty  or  ugly.  So  it  is  with  Berlin.  Every 
one  tells  you  it  is  an  uninteresting  modern  city, 
with  broad,  monotonous  streets ;  and  when  you  see 
it,  you  cannot  for  the  life  of  you  get  up  an  emo- 
tion of  surprise,  or  make  a  remark  about  the  place 
which  you  have  not  heard  before. 

The  day  after  our  arrival  was  Sunday,  6th 
November :  the  sun  shone  brightly,  and  we  went 
to  walk  in  the  Linden,  elbowing  our  way  among 
\h.e promeneurs  enclimanches,  who  looked  remarkably 
smart  and  handsome  after  the  Thuringians.  We 
had  not  gone  far  when  we  met  a  nice-looking  old 
gentleman,  with  an  order  round  his  neck,  and  a 
gold-headed  cane  in  his  hand,  who  exclaimed,  on 
seeing  G. ,  "  1st  's  moglich  ?  "  and  then  bade  him 
heartily  welcome.  I  saw  at  once  it  was  the  Varn- 
hagen  of  whom  I  had  heard  so  often.  His  niece,  ar- 
rayed in  smiles  and  a  pink  bonnet,  was  with  him. 

For  the  first  six  weeks,  when  the  weather  per- 
mitted, we  took  long  walks  in  the  Thiergarten, 
where  the  straight  and  uniform  avenues  of  insig- 
nificant trees  contrasted  very  disadvantageously 
witli  the  charming  variety  of  our  beloved  park  at 
Weimar.  Still  we  now  and  then  noticed  a  beau- 
tiful wintry  effect,  especially  in  the  part  most  re- 
mote from  the  town,  where  the  trees  are  finer  and 


1854.]  Varnhagen.  265 

the  arrangements  more  varied.      One  walk,  which  Berlin,  Rec. 
skirted    the    Thiergarteu    on    the    right-hand   side  noI^ism^ 
coming  from  the  town,  we  were  particularly  fond  isss."*^  ' 
of,  because  it  gave  us  on  one  side  an  open  view, 
with  water  and  a  boat  or  two,  which,  touched  by 
the  magic  of  sunshine,  was  pleasant  to  see.     At 
Berlin  it  was  "  a  day  of  small  things  "  with  regard 
to  the  beautiful,  and  we  made  much  of  little. 

Our  little  circle  of  acquaintances  was  very  agree- 
able and  varied.  Varnhagen  was  a  real  treasure 
to  G. ,  for  his  library  supplied  all  the  deficiencies 
of  the  public  one,  where  to  ask  for  books  was 
generally  like  "  sinking  buckets  into  empty  wells.  " 
He  is  a  man  of  real  culture,  kindliness,  and  polish 
(Germanly  speaking) ;  and  he  has  besides  that 
thorough  liberalism,  social,  religious,  and  politi- 
cal, which  sets  the  mind  at  ease  in  conversation, 
and  delivers  it  from  the  fear  of  running  against 
some  prejudice,  or  coming  suddenly  on  the  sunk 
fence  of  some  miserable  limitation.  The  first 
morning  he  called  on  us  he  talked  of  his  terrible 
disappointment  in  Carlyle,  a  subject  to  which  he 
often  returned.  He  evidently  felt  an  antipathy 
to  the  "  Teufelsdrockh, "  which  indeed  it  was  not 
difficult  to  understand  from  the  mere  maniere  d^ etre 
of  the  two  men.  They  had  corresponded  for  years 
before  they  saw  each  other ;  and  Varnhagen  was, 
and  is,  a  great  admirer  of  Carlyle 's  best  work,  but 
he  was  thoroughly  repelled  by  his  rough  paradox- 
ical talk,  and,  more  justifiably,  by  the  despotic 
doctrines  which  it  has  been  his  humour  to  teach 
of  late.  We  were  amused  to  hear  that  Carlyle 
said  he  should  think  no  one  could  die  at  Berlin, 
"  for  in  beds  wWiout  curtains  what  Christian  could 
give  up  the  ghost  ?  " 


266  New  Acquaintances.  [bkrlin, 

BerUn,  Rec  At  Vamhagen's  we  met  for  the  first  time  Pro- 
Not!'is54',  fessor  Stahr,  who  was  there  witli  Fanny  Lewald, 
toMarch,'  Pi-jjulein  Solmar,  Frau  Muisch,  Dr.  Eing,  Dr. 
Vehse,  Grafin  von  Kalkreuth,  and  Director  Wil- 
helm  Scliadow,  author  of  "  Der  Moderne  Vasari. " 
We  talked  of  Goethe.  Varnhagen  brought  out 
autographs  and  portraits,  and  read  us  an  epigram 
of  his  own  on  the  want  of  liberality  which 
Goethe's  family  show  about  opening  his  house  to 
the  public.  He  showed  us  a  portrait  of  Kleist, 
who  shot  himself,  in  company  w4th  Frau  Vogel, 
near  an  inn  on  the  way  to  Potsdam.  There  was 
no  love  affair  between  them :  they  were  both 
thoroughly  unhappy,  —  he  poor  and  hopeless  for 
the  future,  and  she  suffering  from  an  incurable 
disease.  In  the  evening  they  both  wrote,  on  a 
single  sheet  of  paper,  letters  to  their  friends,  com- 
municating their  intention  (this  sheet  Varnhagen 
possesses).  Early  in  the  morning  they  rose,  took 
a  cup  of  coffee,  went  to  the  brink  of  a  piece  of 
water  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  inn,  and  there 
shot  themselves. 

Du  Bois  Reymond  spoke  very  decidedly  of  the 
German  civilisation  as  inferior  to  the  English. 

Varnhagen,  when  well,  is  a  regular  visitor  at 
Friiulein  Sol  mar's,  who  for  many  years  has  kept 
an  open  uilon  for  her  friends  every  evening  but 
one  in  the  week.  Here  the  three-cornered  chair 
next  the  sofa  was  reserved  for  him,  except  when 
General  Pfuel  was  there.  This  General  Pfuel  is 
a  fine  specimen  of  an  old  soldier,  who  is  at  the 
same  time  a  man  of  instruction  and  of  strong 
social  sympathies.  He  has  been  in  the  service 
of  Prussia,  has  been  within  a  hair's-breadth  of 
being  frozen  to  death,  "  and  so  following. "     He 


1854.]  Fraulein  Solmar's  Salon.  267 

spoke  French  admirably,  and  always  had  some-  Berlin,  Rec 
thing  interesting  and  characteristic  to  tell  or  say.  Nov.  is54l 
His  appreciatory  groans  always  in  the  right  place  Ig^.'''''^' 
when  G.  was  reading  "  Shylock,"  did  us  both  good 
under  the  chills  of  a  German  audience.  Fraulein 
Solmar  is  a  remarkably  accomplished  woman,  — 
probably  between  fifty  and  sixty,  but  of  that  agree- 
able Weseii  which,  is  so  free  from  anything  startling 
in  person  or  manner,  and  so  at  home  in  everything 
one  can  talk  of,  that  you  think  of  her  simply  as 
a  delightful  presence,  and  not  as  a  woman  of  any 
particular  age.  She  converses  perfectly  in  French, 
w^ell  in  English,  and  well  also,  as  we  were  told,  in 
Italian.  There  is  not  the  slightest  warmth  of 
manner  or  expression  in  her,  but  always  the  same 
even  cheerfulness  and  intelligence,  —  in  fact,  she 
is  the  true  type  of  the  mistress  of  the  salon.  Dur- 
ing the  first  half  of  our  stay  in  Berlin,  we  went 
about  once  a  week  to  her  house ;  but  bad  health 
and  bad  weather  kept  us  away  during  the  last  six 
weeks,  except  for  one  or  two  evenings.  Baron 
Sternberg,  the  novelist,  used  frequently  to  glide 
in  when  we  were  there,  and  cast  strange  cold 
glances  around,  talking  quietly  to  Fraulein  As- 
sing  or  some  other  lady  who  sat  in  a  distant 
parallel  of  latitude. 

One  evening  a  Frenchman  there  amused  us  by 
saying  that  he  found  in  Meyerbeer's  "  Huguenots  " 
the  whole  spirit  of  the  epoch  of  Charles  IX. 
"  Lisez  les  Chroniques  "  —  "  de  Froissart  ?  "  sug- 
gested Mile.  Solmar.  "  Qui,  quelque  chose  comma 
ca ;  ou  bien  les  Chroniques  de  Brantome  ou  de 
Merimee;  et  vous  trouverez  que  Meyerbeer  a  par- 
faitement  exprirad  tout  cela ;  du  moins  c'est  ce 
que   je    trouve,   moi. "     I   said,    "  Mais   peut-eti«, 


268  Professor  Gruppe.  [beklin, 

Berlin,  Rec  Moiisieur,  c'est  votre  gdnie  a  vous  qui  a  fait  entrer 

Nov.  1S54.'     les  id^es  dans  la   musique. "     He  answered  with 

1855.'"^''  '      complacent    deprecation.     G.    looked    immovably 

serious,  but  was  inwardly  tickled  by  the  audacity 

of   my  compliment,   and   the   evident   acceptance 

of  it. 

A  still  more  interesting  acquaintance  was  Pro- 
fessor Gruppe,  who  has  written  great  books  on  the 
Greek  drama  and  on  Philosophy ;  has  been  a  polit- 
ical writer;  is  a  lyric  and  epic  poet;  has  invented 
a  beautiful  kind  of  marbled  paper  for  binding 
books ;  is  an  enthusiastic  huntsman,  and  withal, 
the  most  simple  kind-hearted  creature  in  the  world. 
His  little  wife,  who  is  about  thirty  years  younger 
than  himself,  seems  to  adore  him,  and  it  is  charm- 
ing to  see  the  group  they  and  their  two  little  chil- 
dren make  in  their  dwelling  up  endless  flights  of 
stairs  in  the  Leipziger  Platz.  Very  pleasant  even- 
ings we  had  there,  chatting  or  playing  whist,  or 
listening  to  readings  of  Gruppe 's  poems.  We  used 
to  find  him  in  a  grey  cloth  Schlafroch,  which  I 
fancy  was  once  a  great-coat,  and  a  brown  velvet 
cap  surmounting  his  thin  grey  hairs.  I  never  saw 
a  combination  at  all  like  that  which  makes  up 
Gruppe 's  character.  Talent,  fertility,  and  versa- 
tility, that  seem  to  indicate  a  fervid  temperament, 
and  yet  no  scintillation  of  all  this  in  his  talk  and 
manner;  on  the  contrary,  he  seems  slow  at  appre- 
hending other  people's  ideas,  and  is  of  an  almost 
childish  naivete  in  the  value  he  attaches  to  poor 
jokes  and  other  trivialities.  Ajjropos  of  jokes,  we 
noticed  that  during  the  whole  seven  months  of  our 
stay  in  Germany  we  never  heard  one  witticism, 
or  even  one  felicitous  idea  or  expression,  from  a 
Gerraai? ' 


1854.]  Waagen  on  Goethe.  269 

Gruppe  has  a  delightful  library,  with  rare  books,  BerUn,  Reo. 
and  books  too  good  to  be  rare  ;  and  we  often  applied  Nov!  is54^ 
to  him  for  some  of  them.     He  lent  me  "  Lessing, "  Isss."''  ' 
and  that  is  an  additional  circumstance  to  remem- 
ber with  pleasure  in  connection  with  the  Laocoon. 
He  one  evening  gave  us  an  interesting  account  of 
his  work  on  the  cosmic  system  of  the  Greeks,  and 
read  us  a  translation   by  himself    of   one   of  the 
Homeric   hymns,  —  Aphrodite,  —  which    is   very 
beautiful,  a  sort  of  Gegcnstuck  to  "  Der  Gott  und 
die  Bajadere ;  "  and  generally  we  were  glad  when 
he  took  up  the  book.     He  read  us  a  specimen  of 
his  epic  poem,  "  Firdusi, "  which  pleased  us.      The 
fable  on  which  this  poem  is  founded  is  fine.      The 
Sultan  had  engaged  Firdusi  to  write  a  great  poem 
on  his  exploits,  and  had  promised  to  pay  for  this 
100,000   pieces  (gold  being  understood).      Firdusi 
had  delighted  in  the  thought  of  this  sum,  which 
he  intended  to  devote  to  the  benefit  of  his  native 
city.      When  the  poem  was  delivered,  and  the  sack 
of  money  given  to  Firdusi,  he  found  that  the  pieces 
were  silver !     He  burst  into  a  song  of  scorn  against 
the  Sultan,  and  paid  the  miserable  sum  to  his  bath 
man.      Gruppe  thinks  Shakspeare  more  extensively 
sold  in  Germany  than  any  other  book,  except  the 
Bible    and    Schiller!     One    night   we    attempted 
"  Brag  "    or  "  Pocher, "  but  Gruppe  presently  be- 
came alarmed  at  G.  's  play,  and  said,  "  Das  wiirde 
an  zwolf  Groschen  reichen  !  "     He  drew  some  Jews' 
faces  with  a  pen  admirably. 

We  were  invited  to  meet  Waagen,  whom  we 
found  a  very  intelligent  and  amusing  man.  He 
told  us  a  story  about  Goethe,  who  said  of  some 
one,  "  I  thank  thee.  Almighty  God,  that  Thou 
hast  produced  no  second   edition   of  this  man !  " 


270 


Edward  Magnus  on  Carlyle.        [berlin, 


oUections, 
Nov.  1854, 
to  March, 
1865. 


Berim,  Rec  and  an  amusing  judgment  passed  on  Goethe  him- 
self, that  he  was  "  Kein  dummer  Mann !  "  Also 
a  story  of  a  lady  who  went  to  see  him  as  an  intel- 
lectual adorer  and  began  to  spout  to  him  as  his 
masterpiece,  "  Fest  gemauert  in  der  Erden, "  ^  &c. 

Another  pleasant  friend  was  Edward  Magnus, 
the  portrait-painter,  an  acute,  intelligent,  kind- 
hearted  man,  with  real  talent  in  his  art.  He  was 
the  only  German  we  met  with  who  seemed  conscious 
of  his  countrymen's  deficiencies.  He  showed  in 
every  possible  way  a  hearty  desire  to  do  us  service, 
—  sent  us  books,  came  to  chat  with  us,  showed 
us  his  portraits,  and  when  we  were  going  away, 
brought  us  lithographs  of  some  paintings  of  his, 
that  we  might  carry  away  a  remembrance  of  him. 
He  has  travelled  very  extensively,  and  had  much 
intercourse  with  distinguished  people,  and  these 
means  of  culture  have  had  some  of  their  best  effects 
on  his  fine  temperament  and  direct  truthful  mind. 
He  told  us  a  rich  story  about  Carlyle.  At  a  din- 
ner-party, given  by  Magnus  in  his  honour,  Wiese 
and  Cornelius  were  deploring  Goethe's  want  of 
evangelical  sentiment.  Carlyle  was  visibly  un- 
easy, fumbling  with  his  dinner-napkin.  At  last 
he  broke  out  thus :  "  Meine  Herren,  kennen  Sie 
die  Anekdote  von  dem  Manne  der  die  Sonne  las- 
terte,  weil  sie  ihn  seine  Cigarre  nicht  anstecken 
liess  ? "  2 

In  the  little  room  where  we  used  to  be  ushered  to 
wait  for  him,  there  was  a  portrait  of  Thorwaldsen 
and  one  of  Mendelssohn,  both  of  whom  he  knew 
well.     I  was   surprised  to  find  in  his  atelier  the 

1  First  line  of  Schiller's  "  Soni^  of  the  Bell." 
3  "  Gentlemen,  do  you  know  the  story  of  the  man  who  railed  at 
the  son  because  it  would  not  light  his  cigar  ?  " 


1854.]  Professor  Stahr  and  his  Wife.  271 

original  of  the  portrait  of  Jenny  Lind,  with  which  Berlin,  Re* 
I  was  SO  familiar.      He  was  going  to  send  it,  to-  Nov.  1854, 
gether  with  Sontag's  portrait,  to  the  exhibition  at  i^*"*^ 
Paris.     His  brother,  the  chemist,  was  also  a  bright 
good-natured-looking    man.     We  were  invited  to 
a  large  evening  party  at  his  house,  and  found  very 
elegant  rooms,  with  a  remarkable  assemblage  of 
celebrated  men,  —  Johannes  Miiller,  Du  Bois  Eey- 
mond,    Rose,   Ehrenberg,   &c.,   &c.     Some   of   the 
women  were  very  pretty  and  well  dressed.     The 
supper,  brought  round  on  trays,  was  well  appointed ; 
and  altogether  the  party  was  well  managed. 

We  spent  one  evening  with  Professor  Stahr  and 
his  wife,  — Fanny  Lewald,  — after  their  marriage. 
Stahr  has  a  copy  of  the  charming  miniature  of 
Schiller,  taken  when  he  was  about  thirty,  —  a 
miniature  in  the  possession  of  a  certain  Madame 
von  Kalb.  There  are  the  long  Gdnsehals,^  the 
aquiline  nose,  the  blue  eyes  and  auburn  hair.  It 
is  a  most  real  and  striking  portrait.  I  saw  also 
a  portrait  and  bust  of  Madame  d'Agoult  here,  both 
rather  handsome.  The  first  evening  Stahr  told  us 
some  of  the  grievances  which  the  Prussians  have 
to  bear  from  their  Government,  and  amongst  the 
rest  the  vexatious  necessity  for  a  "  concession  "  or 
licence,  before  any,  the  simplest  vocation,  can  be 
entered  on.  He  observed,  with  justice,  that  the 
English  are  apt  to  suppose  the  German  Eevolution 
of  '48  was  mere  restlessness  and  aping  of  other 
nations,  when  in  fact  there  were  real  oppressions 
which  the  Germans  had  to  bear,  and  which  they 
had  borne  with  a  patience  that  the  English  would 
not  imitate  for  a  month.  By  far  the  most  distin- 
guished-looking man  we  saw  at  Berlin,  and  indeed 

1  Goose-neck. 


272  Baucli  the  Sculjptor,  [berlin, 

Berlin,  Rec-  next  to  Liszt  ill  Germany,  was  Rauch  the  sculptor. 
Cv^'S  SchOll  had  given  G.  a  letter  for  him,  and  soon 
to^arch,  after  it  had  been  left  at  his  house  he  called  on  us 
in  the  evening,  and  at  once  won  our  hearts  by  his 
beautiful  person  and  the  benignant  and  intelligent 
charm  of  his  conversation.  He  is  indeed  the  finest 
old  man  I  ever  saw,  —  more  than  seventy-six,  I 
believe,  but  perfectly  upright,  even  stately  in  his 
carriage.  His  features  are  harmonious,  his  com- 
plexion has  a  delicate  freshness,  his  silky  white 
hair  waves  gracefully  round  his  high  forehead,  and 
his  brown  eyes  beam  with  benevolence  and  intelli- 
gence. He  is  above  the  common  height,  and  his 
stature  and  beauty  together  ennoble  the  grey  work- 
ing surtout  and  cap  which  he  wears  in  his  atelier 
into  a  picturesque  and  distinguished  costume. 
The  evening  he  was  with  us  he  talked  delightfully 
of  Goethe,  dwelling  especially  on  his  lovable 
nature.  He  described  very  graphically  Goethe's 
way  of  introducing  subjects,  showing  plates,  &c. , 
bringing  in  the  cast  of  Schiller's  skull,  and  talking 
of  it  and  other  little  particulars  of  interest.  We 
went  one  morning  to  his  atelier,  and  found  him 
superintending  his  pupil's  work  at  a  large  group 
representing  Moses  with  his  hands  held  up  by 
Aaron  and  Hur.  It  was  extremely  interesting  to 
me  to  see  Ranch's  original  little  clay  model  of 
this  group,  for  I  had  never  seen  statuary  in  that 
first  stage  before.  The  intense  expression  of  en- 
treaty in  the  face  of  the  Moses  was  remarkable. 
But  the  spirit  of  this  group  is  so  alien  to  my 
sympathies  that  I  could  feel  little  pleasure  in  the 
idea  of  its  production.  On  the  other  hand,  my 
heart  leaped  at  the  sight  of  old  Kant's  quaint 
figure,  of  which  Ranch  is  commissioned  to  produce 


1854.]  Dessoir  the  Actur.  273 

a  colossal  statue  for  Konigsberg.    In  another  atelier,  Berlin,  Reo 
where  the  work  is  in  a  different  stage,  we  saw  a  ^ov.  Tm, 
splendid  marble  monument,  nearly  completed,   of  135^,'^'''^''' 
the  late  King  of   Hanover.      Pitiable  that  genius 
and  spotless  white  marble  should  be  thrown  away 
on  such  human  trash !    Our  second  visit  to  Ranch's 
atelier  was  paid  shortly  before  we  left  Berlin,     The 
group  of  Moses,  Aaron,  and  Hur  was  clothed  up, 
and  the  dark-eyed  olive-complexioned  pupil  was  at 
work  on  a  pretty  little  figure  of  Hope,  —  a  child 
stepping  forward  with  upturned  face,  a  bunch  of 
flowers  in  her  hand.     In  the  other  atelier  we  saw 
a  bust  of  Schleiermacher  which,  with  the  eques- 
trian statue  of  Fritz  and  its  pedestal,  Eauch  w^as 
going  to  send  to  the  Paris  Exhibition.      Schleier- 
macher's  face  is  very  delicately  cut,  and  indicates 
a  highly  susceptible    temperament.     The  colossal 
head  of  Pritz,  seen  on  a  level  with  one's  eye,  was 
perfectly  startling  from  its  living  expression.     One 
can't  help  fancying  that  the  head  is  thinking  and 
that  the  eyes  are  seeing. 

Dessoir  the  actor  was  another  pleasant  variety 
in  our  circle  of  acquaintance.  He  created  in  us  a 
real  respect  and  regard  for  him,  not  only  by  his 
sincere  devotion  to  his  art,  but  by  the  superiority 
of  feeling  which  shone  through  all  the  little  details 
of  his  conduct  and  conversation.  Of  lowly  birth 
and  entirely  self-taught,  he  is  by  nature  a  gentle- 
man. Without  a  single  physical  gift  as  an  actor, 
he  succeeds,  by  force  of  enthusiasm  and  conscien- 
tious study,  in  arriving  at  a  representation  which 
commands  one's  attention  and  feelings.  I  was 
very  much  pleased  by  the  simplicity  with  which 
he  one  day  said,  "  Shakspeare  ist  mein  Gott ;  ich 
habe  keinen  anderen  Gott ; "  and  indeed  one  saw 

VOL.    I.  —  18 


274  "  Nathan  der  Weise."  [beelin, 

Berlin,  Rec-  that  his  ait  was  a  religion  to  him.  He  said  he 
Nov!  Uli,  found  himself  inevitably  led  into  sing-song  decla- 
1856."^  '  mation  by  Schiller,  but  with  Shakspeare  it  was 
impossible  to  be  declamatory.  It  was  very  agree- 
able to  have  him  as  a  companion  now  and  then  in 
our  walks,  and  to  have  him  read  or  discuss  Shak- 
epeare  for  an  hour  or  two  in  the  evening.  He  told 
us  an  amusing  story  about  his  early  days.  When 
he  was  a  youth  of  sixteen  or  seventeen,  acting  at 
Spandau,  he  walked  to  Berlin  (about  nine  miles) 
and  back  in  the  evening,  accompanied  by  a  watch- 
maker named  Naundorff,  an  enthusiast  for  the 
theatre.  On  their  way  Dessoir  declaimed  at  the 
top  of  his  voice,  and  was  encouraged  by  the  ap- 
plause of  his  companion  to  more  and  more  exertion 
of  lungs  and  limbs,  so  that  people  stared  at  them, 
and  followed  them  as  if  they  thought  them  two 
madmen.  This  watchmaker  was  Louis  XVII.  ! 
Dessoir  also  imitated  admirably  Aldridge's  mode 
of  advancing  to  kill  Duncan,  —  like  a  wild  Indian 
lurking  for  a  not  much  wilder  beast.  He  paid  us 
the  very  pretty  attention  of  getting  up  a  dinner  for 
us  at  Dietz's,  and  inviting  Riitscher  and  Forster  to 
meet  us ;  and  he  supplied  us  with  tickets  for  the 
theatre,  which,  however,  was  a  pleasure  we  used 
sparingly.  The  first  time  we  went  was  to  see 
"  Nathan  der  Weise,"  — a  real  enjoyment,  for  the 
elegant  theatre  was  new  to  us,  and  the  scenery 
was  excellent,  —  better  than  I  saw  there  on  any 
subsequent  occasion.  During  performed  Nathan, 
and  we  thus  saw  him  for  the  first  time  to  great 
V  advantage,  —  for  though  he  drags  down  this  part, 

as  he  does  all  others,  the  character  of  Nathan  sets 
limits  which  he  cannot  overstep;  and  though  we 
lose  most  of  its  elevation  in  Dtiring's  actinjj,  we 


1855.]  Gluck's  "  Orpheus."  275 

get,  en  revanche,  an  admirable  ease  and  natural-  Beriin,.Reo 
ness.     His  tine  clear  voice  and  peiiect  enunciation  Nov.  ibs-i, 
told  excellently  in  the  famous  monologue,  and  in  iso^;'^^'^  ' 
the  whole  scene  with  Saladin.      Our  hearts  swelled 
and  the  tears  came  into  our  eyes  as  we  listened  to 
the  noble  words  of  dear  Lessing,  whose  great  spirit 
lives  immortally  in  this  crowning  work  of  his. 

Our  great  anxiety  was  to  see  and  hear  Johanna 
Wagner,  so  we  took  tickets  for  the  "  Orpheus," 
which  Mile.  Solmar  told  us  she  thought  her  best 
part.  We  were  thoroughly  delighted  both  with 
her  and  her  music.  The  caricatures  of  the  Furies, 
the  ballet-girls,  and  the  butcher-like  Greek  shades 
in  Elysium,  the  ugly  screaming  Eurydice,  and  the 
droll  appearance  of  Timzek  as  Amor,  in  which  she 
looked  like  a  shop-girl  who  has  donned  a  masque- 
rade dress  impromptu,  without  changing  her  head- 
dress, —  all  these  absurdities  were  rather  an 
amusement  than  a  drawback  to  our  pleasure ;  for 
the  Orpheus  was  perfect  in  himself,  and  looked 
like  a  noble  horse  among  mules  and  donkeys. 

Our  days  are  so  accurately  parcelled  out  that  my  Letter  to 

.  .  .  ■      Miss  Sfirf 

time  for  letter-writinsj  is  rather  restricted,  and  for  Henneii, 

.  9th  Jan. 

every  letter  I  write  I  have  to  leave  out  something  isss.' 
which  we  have  learned  to  think  necessary.  We 
have  been  to  hear  "  Fidelio"  this  evening,  —  not 
well  executed,  except  so  far  as  the  orchestra  was 
concerned ;  but  the  divine  music  positively 
triumphs  over  the  defects  of  execution.  One  is 
entirely  wrapt  in  the  idea  of  the  composer.  Last 
week  we  had  "Orpheus  and  Eurydice,"  and  I 
heard,  for  the  first  time,  at  once  an  opera  of 
Gluck's  and  Johanna  Wagner.  It  is  one  of  the 
glories  of  Berlin  to  give  Gluck's  operas,  and  it  is 
also  something  of  a  glory  to  have  "  die  Wagner. " 


376  A^joendix. 

there  could  be  no  true  morality  without  evangelical 
belief.  "  Oh,  it  is  so,  is  it  ? "  she  said,  with  the 
kindest  smile,  and  nothing  further  passed.  From 
time  to  time,  however,  her  reverence  and  affection 
for  the  character  of  Christ  and  the  Apostle  Paul, 
and  her  sympathy  with  genuine  religious  feeling, 
were  very  clear  to  me.  Expressing  one  day  her 
horror  of  a  crowd,  she  said,  "  I  never  would  press 
through  one,  unless  it  were  to  see  a  second  Jesus. " 
The  words  startled  me,  —  the  conception  of  Jesus 
Christ  in  my  mind  being  so  little  associated  with 
a  human  form ;  but  they  impressed  me  with  a  cer- 
tain reality  of  feeling  which  I  contrasted,  as  I  did 
Miss  Evans's  abiding  interest  in  great  principles, 
with  the  somewhat  factitious  and  occasional  as 
well  as  fitful  affection  and  concern  manifest  in 
many  whom  I  looked  up  to  as  "  converted  "  people. 

Once  only  do  I  remember  such  contrast  being 
made  by  herself.  She  attended  the  service  at  the 
opening  of  a  new  church  at  Foleshill  with  her 
father,  and  remarked  to  me  the  next  day,  that 
looking  at  the  gaily  dressed  people,  she  could  not 
help  thinking  how  much  easier  life  would  be  to 
her,  and  how  much  better  she  should  stand  in  the 
estimation  of  her  neighbours,  if  only  she  could  take 
things  as  they  did,  be  satisfied  with  outside  pleas- 
ures, and  conform  to  the  popular  beliefs  without 
any  reflection  or  examination.  Once,  too,  after 
being  in  the  company  of  educated  persons  "  pro- 
fessing and  calling  themselves  Christians,"  she 
commented  to  me  on  the  tone  of  conversation, 
often  frivolous,  sometimes  ill-natured,  that  seemed 
yet  to  excite  in  no  one  any  sense  of  impropriety. 

It  must  have  been  in  those  early  days  that  she 
spoke  to  me  of  a  visit  from  one  of  her  uncles  in 


Appendix.  2)'ll 

Derbyshire,  a  Wesleyan,  and  how  much  she  had 
enjoyed  talking  with  him,  finding  she  could  enter 
into  his  feelings  so  much  better  than  she  had  done 
in  past  times,  when  her  views  seemed  more  in 
accordance  with  his  own,  but  were  really  less  so. 

Amongst  other  books,  I  remember  the  "  Life  of 
Dr.  Arnold  "  interested  her  deeply.  Speaking  of 
it  to  me  one  morning,  she  referred  to  a  conversation 
she  had  had  with  a  friend  the  evening  before,  and 
said  they  had  agreed  that  it  was  a  great  good  for 
such  men  to  remain  within  the  pale  of  orthodoxy, 
that  so  they  might  draw  from  the  old  doctrines  the 
best  that  was  to  be  got  from  them. 

Of  criticisms  on  German  books  read  with  Miss 
Evans,  I  recall  one  or  two.  In  the  "  Eobbers, "  she 
criticised  the  attempt  to  enhance  the  horror  of  the 
situation  of  the  abandoned  father,  by  details  of 
physical  wretchedness,  as  a  mistake  in  Art. 
"  Wallenstein  "  she  ranked  higher  from  an  intel- 
lectual point  of  view  than  any  other  work  of 
Schiller's.  The  talk  of  the  soldiers  in  the  "  Lager  " 
she  pointed  out  to  me  as  "  just  what  it  would  be." 
On  my  faint  response,  "  I  suppose  it  is !  "  she  re- 
turned, "  No,  you  do  not  suppose,  —  we  know  these 
things ;  "  and  then  gave  me  a  specimen  of  what 
might  be  a  navvy's  talk,  —  "  The  sort  of  thing  such 
people  say  is,  '  I'll  break  off  your  arm,  and  bloody 
your  face  with  the  stump. '  " 

Mrs.  Bray  tells  the  following  incident,  as  show- 
ing her  quick  perception  of  excellence  from  a  new 
and  unknown  source.  "We  were  sittins, "  Mrs. 
Bray  says,  "  one  summer  afternoon  on  the  lawn  at 
Eosehill,  July,  1850,  when  Marian  came  running 
to  us  from  the  house  with  the  '  Leader  '  newspaper 
in  her  hand.      '  Here  is  a  new  poet  come  into  the 


278 


Vivier  Anecdotes. 


[berlin, 


BerUn,  Rec-  draiuatic  music ;  and  his  way  of  falling  from 
not?*is54',  melody  into  awe-struck  speech  in  the  final  words 
toMarch,      «  ^^^^   ^^^^  „   ^bidcs  with   onc.      I    nevcr   felt   so 

thoroughly  the  beauty  of  that  divine  ballad  before. 
The  king  was  present  in  all  his  toothlessness  and 
blinkingness ;  and  the  new  princess  from  Anhalt 
Dessau,  young  and  delicate-looking,  was  there  too. 
Arabella  Goddard  played  the  "  Harmonious  Black- 
smith" charmingly,  and  then  Wagner  sang  badly 
two  ineffective  German  songs,  and  Haldvy's  duet 
from  the  "  Eeine  de  Chypre"  with  Eoger. 

Vivier  is  amusing.  He  says  Germans  take  off 
their  hats  on  all  possible  pretexts,  not  for  the  sake 
of  politeness,  but  2^our  etre  etnharrassants.  They 
have  wide  streets,  simply  to  embarrass  you,  by 
making  it  impossible  to  descry  a  shop  or  a  friend. 
A  German  always  has  three  gloves,  —  "  On  ne  salt 
pas  pourquoi. "  There  is  a  dog-tax  in  order  to 
maintain  a  narrow  trottoir  in  Berlin,  and  every  one 
who  keeps  a  dog  feels  authorised  to  keep  the 
trottoir  and  move  aside  for  no  one.  If  he  has  two 
dogs,  he  drives  out  of  the  trottoir  the  man  who  has 
only  one  :  the  very  dogs  begin  to  be  aware  of  it. 
If  you  kick  one  when  he  is  off  the  trottoir,  he  will 
bear  it  patiently,  but  on  the  trottoir  he  resents  it 
vehemently.  He  gave  us  quite  a  bit  of  Moliere  in 
a  description  of  a  mystification  at  a  restaurant. 
He  says  to  the  waiter,  —  "  Vous  voyez  ce  mon- 
sieur-la, C'est  le  pauvre  M.  Colignon. "  (II  faut 
qu'il  soit  quelqu'un  qui  prend  trfes  pen,  —  une  tasse 
de  cafd  ou  comme  ca,  et  qui  ne  d^pense  pas  trop. ) 
"  Jo  suis  son  ami.  II  est  fou.  Je  le  garde.  Com- 
bien  doit-il  payor?"  "  Un  franc.'"  "  VoihV " 
Then  Vivier  goes  out.  Presently  the  so-called 
M.  Colignon  asks  how  much  he  has  to  pay,  and  is 


1855.]  Works  of  Art  at  Berlin.         ,  279 

driven  to  exasperation  by  the  reiterated  assurance  Berlin,  Rec 
of  the  waiter,  —  "  C'est  payd,  M.  Colignon.  "  nov^^ism, 

The  first  work  of  art  really  worth  looking  at  ll^^""^' 
that  one  sees  at  Berlin  are  the  "  Kosse-bandiger" 
in  front  of  the  palace.  They  are  by  a  sculptor 
named  Clodt,  who  made  horses  his  especial  study ; 
and  certainly,  to  us,  they  eclipsed  the  famous 
Colossi  at  Monte  Cavallo,  casts  of  which  are  in 
the  new  museum. 

The  collection  of  pictures  at  the  old  museum 
has  three  gems,  which  remain  in  the  imagination, 
—  Titian's  Daughter,  Correggio's  Jupiter  and  lo, 
and  his  Head  of  Christ  on  the  Handkerchief.  I 
was  pleased  also  to  recognise  among  the  pictures 
the  one  by  Jan  Steen,  which  Goethe  describes  in 
the  "  Wahlverwandschaften"  as  the  model  of  a 
tahleau  vivant,  presented  by  Luciane  and  her 
friends.  It  is  the  daughter  being  reproved  by  her 
father,  while  the  mother  is  emptying  her  wine- 
glass. It  is  interesting  to  see  the  statue  of 
Napoleon,  the  Worker  of  so  much  humiliation  to 
Prussia,  placed  opposite  that  of  Julius  Csesar. 

They  were  very  happy  months  we  spent  at 
Berlin,  in  spite  of  the  bitter  cold  which  came  on 
in  January  and  lasted  almost  till  we  left.  How 
we  used  to  rejoice  in  the  idea  of  our  warm  room 
and  coffee  as  we  battled  our  way  from  dinner 
against  the  wind  and  snow !  Then  came  the 
delightful  loner  evening;,  in  which  we  read  Shak- 
speare,  Goethe,  Heine,  and  Macaulay,  with  Ger- 
man Pfefferkuchen  and  Semmels  at  the  end  to 
complete  the  nodes  cenccque  deum. 

We  used  often  to  turn  out  for  a  little  walk  in 
the  evening,  when  it  was  not  too  cold,  to  refresh 
ourselves  by  a  little  pure  air  as  a  change  from  the 


280 


Evenings  in  Berlin. 


[BERLIN. 


Berlin,  Rec- 

oUectioua, 
Nov.  1S54, 
to  March, 
1855. 


stove-heated  room.  Our  favourite  walk  was  along 
the  Linden,  in  the  broad  road  between  the  trees. 
We  used  to  pace  to  old  Fritz's  monument,  which 
loomed  up  dark  and  mysterious  against  the  sky. 
Once  or  twice  we  went  along  the  gas-lighted  walk 
towards  Kroll's.  One  evening  in  our  last  week, 
we  went  on  to  the  bridge  leading  to  the  Frie- 
drichstadt,  and  there  by  moon-  and  gas-light  saw 
the  only  bit  of  picturesqueness  Berlin  afibrded  us. 
The  outline  of  the  Schloss  towards  the  water  is 
very  varied,  and  a  light  in  one  of  the  windows 
near  the  top  of  a  tower  was  a  happy  accident. 
The  row  of  houses  on  the  other  side  of  the  water 
was  shrouded  in  indistinctness,  and  no  ugly  object 
marred  the  scene.  The  next  day,  under  the  light 
of  the  sun  it  was  perfectly  prosaic. 

Our  taUe  cVhote  at  the  Hotel  de  1 'Europe  was  so 
slow  in  its  progress  from  one  course  to  another,  and 
there  was  so  little  encouragement  to  talk  to  our 
neighbours,  that  we  used  to  take  our  books  by  way 
of  beguiling  the  time.  Lessing's  "  Hamburgische 
Briefe,"  which  I  am  not  likely  to  take  up  again, 
will  thus  remain  associated  in  my  memory  with 
my  place  at  the  taUe  dliotc.  The  company  here, 
as  almost  everywhere  else  in  Berlin,  was  sprinkled 
with  officers.  Indeed  the  swords  of  officers  threaten 
one's  legs  at  every  turn  in  the  streets,  and  one 
sighs  to  think  how  these  unproductive  consumers 
of  Wurst,  with  all  their  blue  and  scarlet  broad- 
cloth, are  maintained  out  of  the  pockets  of  the 
community.  Many  of  the  officers  and  privates  are 
startlingly  tall ;  indeed  some  of  them  would  match, 
I  shouhl  think,  with  the  longest  of  Friedrich 
Wiihelm's  lanrje  Kerle. 

It   was   a   bitterly  cold   sleety   morning,  —  the 


1855.]  Journey  to  Cologne.  281 

11th  of  March,  when  we  set  out  from  Berlin,  BerUn,  Reo- 
leaving  behind  us,  alas!  G. 's  rug,  which  should  Nov.  1854', 
have  kept  his  feet  warm  on  the  journey.  Our  1855."*^  ' 
travelling  companions  to  Cologne  were  fat  Madame 
Roger,  her  little  daughter,  and  her  dog,  and  a 
Queen's  messenger,  —  a  very  agreeable  man,  who 
afterwards  persuaded  another  of  the  same  vocation 
to  join  us  for  the  sake  of  warmth.  This  poor 
man's  teeth  were  chattering  with  cold,  though  he 
fvas  wrapped  in  fur ;  and  we,  all  fur-less  as  we 
were,  pitied  him,  and  were  thankful  that  at  least 
we  were  not  feverish  and  ill,  as  he  evidently  was. 
We  saw  the  immortal  old  town  of  Wolfenbiittel  at 
a  distance,  as  we  rolled  along :  beyond  this  there 
was  nothing  of  interest  in  our  first  day's  journey, 
and  the  only  incident  was  the  condemnation  of 
poor  Madame  Roger's  dog  to  the  dog-box,  apart 
from  its  mistress  with  her  warm  cloaks.  She 
remonstrated  in  vain  with  a  brutal  German  official, 
and  it  was  amusing  to  hear  him  say  to  her  in 
German,  "  Wenn  sie  Deutsch  nicht  verstehen 
konnen.  "  "  Eh  bien,  —  prenez  la.  "  "  Ah  !  qUel 
satan  de  pays !  "  was  her  final  word,  as  she  held 
out  the  shivering  little  beast.  We  stayed  at 
Cologne,  and  next  morning  walked  out  to  look  at 
the  cathedral  again.  Melancholy  as  ever  in  its 
impression  upon  me !  From  Cologne  to  Brussels 
we  had  some  rather  interesting  companions,  in 
two  French  artists  who  were  on  their  way  from 
Russia.  Strange  beings  they  looked  to  us  at  first 
in  their  dirty  linen,  Russian  caps,  and  other  queer 
equipments ;  but  in  this,  as  in  many  other  cases, 
I  found  that  a  first  impression  was  an  extremely 
mistaken  one,  for  instead  of  being,  as  I  imagined, 
common  uncultivated  men,  they  were  highly 
intelligent. 


282  Work  at  Weimar  and  Berlin.        [beklin, 

BerUn,  Rec-      At  Bnissels,  Rs  WG  took  oui  supper,  we  had  the 
Nov  1854',     pleasure  of  looking  at  Berlioz's  fine  head  and  face, 
1855.      '      he  being  employed  in  the  same  way  on  the  other 
side  of  the  table.     The  next  morning  to  Calais. 

They  were  pleasant   days,  these  at  Weimar 
and  Berlin,  and  they  were  working  days.     Mr. 
Lewes  was  engaged    in  completing  his  life  of 
Goethe,    which    had    been   begun   some    time 
before,  but  which  was  now  for  the  most  part 
rewritten.      At    Weimar    George    Eliot    wrote 
the    article    on   Victor  Cousin's    "Madame   de 
Sabld  "  for  the  "  Westminster  Eeview. "     It  was 
begun    on    5th    August   and    sent    off    on    8th 
September.     At  Berlin  she  nearly  finished  the 
translation  of  Spinoza's  "  Ethics,  " — begun  on 
5th  November, —  and  wrote  an  article  on  Vehse's 
"  Court  of  Austria, "  which  was  begun  on  23d 
January  and  finished  4th  March,  1855.    Besides 
this  writing,  I  find    the  following  among  the 
books  that  were  engaging  their  attention ;  and 
in    collecting  the    names  from    George  Eliot's 
Journal,  I  have  transcribed   any  remarks    she 
makes  on  them  :  — 
Sainte-Beuve,    Goethe's    "  Wahlverwandschaften," 
"  Rameau's  Neffe,"  "  Egmont,"  "  The  Hoggarty  Dia- 
mond,"  Moore's  "  Life  of  Sheridan,"  — a  first-rate 
specimen  of  bad  biographical  writing  ;  "  Gotz  "  and 
the  "  Biirger  General,"  Uhland's  poems,  "  W^ilhelm 
Meister, "   Rosenkranz  on  the  Faust  Sage,  Heine's 
poems,  Shakspeare's  plays  ("  Merchant  of  Venice," 
"  Eomeo  and  Juliet, "  "  Julius  Caesar, " —  very  much 
struck  with  the  masculine  style  of  this  play,  and 
its  vigorous  moderation,  compared  with    "  Eomeo 
and  Juliet,  "  —  "  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  "  "  Henry 
IV.,"  "  Othello, ""  As  You  Like  It,"   "Lear,"  — 


1855.]  Remarks  on  Books  Bead.  283 

sublimely  powerful,  —  "  Taming  of  the  Shrew, " 
"  Coriolaiius, "  "  Twelfth  Night,  "  "  Measure  for 
Measure,"  "Midsummer  Night's  Dream,"  "Win- 
ter's Tale,"  "  Eichard  HI,"  "  Hamlet");  Lessing's 
"  Laocoon," —  the  most  un-German  of  all  the  German 
books  that  I  have  ever  read.  The  style  is  strong, 
clear,  and  lively  ;  the  thoughts  acute  and  pregnant. 
It  is  well  adapted  to  rouse  an  interest  both  in  the 
classics  and  in  the  study  of  art ;  "  Emilia  Galotti  " 
seems  to  me  a  wretched  mistake  of  Lessing's.  The 
Eoman  myth  of  Virgiuius  is  grand,  but  the  situa- 
tion transported  to  modern  times  and  'divested  of 
its  political  bearing  is  simply  shocking.  Eead 
"  Briefe  iiber  Spinoza"  (Jacobi's),  "Nathan  der 
Weise,  "  Fanny  Lewald's  "  Wandlungen, "  "  Minna 
von  Barnhelm, "  "  Italiiinische  Eeise, "  the  "  Eesi- 
dence  in  Eome  :  "  a  beautiful  description  of  Eome 
and  the  Coliseum  by  moonlight,  —  a  fire  made  in 
the  Coliseum  sending  its  smoke,  silvered  by  the 
moonlight,  through  the  arches  of  the  mighty 
walls.  Amusing  story  of  Goethe's  landlady's  cat 
worshipping  Jupiter  by  licking  his  beard,  —  a 
miracle  in  her  esteem,  explained  by  Goethe  as  a 
discovery  the  cat  had  made  of  the  oil  lodging  in 
the  undulations  of  the  beard.  "  Eesidence  in 
Naples,"  —  pretty  passage  about  a  star  seen  through 
a  chink  in  the  ceiling  as  he  lay  in  bed.  It  is 
remarkable  that  when  Goethe  gets  to  Sicily,  he  is 
for  the  first  time  in  Italy  enthusiastic  in  his 
descriptions  of  natural  beauty.  Eead  Schorr's 
"  Geschichte  Deutscher  Cultur  und  Sitte, "  — much 
interested  in  his  sketch  of  German  poetry  in  the 
middle  ages :  "  Iphigenia.. "  Looked  into  the 
"  Xenien, "  and  amused  ourselves  with  their  point- 
lessness.     "  Hermann    und    Dorothea.  "     "  Tasso, " 


284  Remarks  on  Books  Bead.  [berlin. 

".  Wander j ahre,  " — a  mourir  d'ennui,  — Heine's 
"  Gestandnisse, "  — immensely  amused  with  the  wit 
of  it  in  the  first  fifty  pages,  but  afterwards  it  burns 
low,  and  the  want  of  principle  and  purpose  make 
it  wearisome.  Lessing's  "  Hamburgische  Briefe.  " 
Eead  Goethe's  wonderful  observations  on  Spinoza. 
Particularly  struck  with  the  beautiful  modesty  of 
the  passage  in  which  he  says  he  cannot  presume  to 
say  that  he  thoroughly  understands  Spinoza.  Eead 
"  Dichtung  und  Wahrheit, "  Knight's  "  Studies  of 
Shakspeare."  Talked  of  the  "  Wahl  verwandschaf  ten  " 
with  Stahr, — 'he  finding  fault  with  the  deiiouement, 
which  I  defended.  Eead  Stahr's  "Torso," — too 
long-winded  a  style  for  reading  aloud.  Knight's 
"  History  of  Painting. "  Compared  several  scenes 
of  "  Hamlet"  in  Schlegel's  translation  with  the 
original.  It  is  generally  very  close,  and  often 
admirably  well  done:  but  Shakspeare 's  strong 
concrete  language  is  almost  always  weakened.  For 
example,  "  Though  this  hand  were  thicker  than 
itself  in  brother's  blood,"  is  rendered,  "  Auch  um 
und  um  in  Bruder's  Blut  getauchet. "  The  prose 
speeches  of  Hamlet  lose  all  their  felicity  in  the 
translation.  Eead  Stahr  on  the  Eginetan  Sculp- 
tures, "Die  Neue  Melusine,"  "West-Ostliche  Divan," 
Gervinus  on  Shakspeare,  —  found  it  unsatisfactory, 
—  Stahr's  "  Ein  Jahr  in  Italien,  "  —  the  description 
of  Florence  excellent.  Eead  the  wondrously  beau- 
tiful "  Eomische  Elegien  "  again,  and  some  of  the 
Venetian  Epigrams,  Vehse's  "  Court  of  Austria, "  — 
called  on  Miss  Assing  to  try  and  borrow  the  book 
from  Varnhagen.  He  does  not  possess  it,  so  G. 
called  on  Vehse,  and  asked  him  to  lend  it  to  me. 
He  was  very  much  pleased  to  do  so.  Eead  the 
"  Zueignung, "  the  "  Gedichte, "  and  several  of  the 


j855.]  Return  to  England.  285 

ballads.  Looked  through  Wraxall's  "Memoirs." 
Eead  Macaulay's  "History  of  England, '"'  Wrote 
article  on  Stahr. 

This   writing   and   reading,    combined  with 
visiting,   theatre-going,  and  opera-going,   make 
a  pretty  full  life  for  these  eight  months,  —  a 
striking  contrast  to  the  coming  months  of  com- 
plete social  quietness  in  England.     Both  lives 
had  their  attractions,  the  superficial  aspects  of 
which  may  be  summed  up  in  a  passage  from 
the  Journal,  dated  13th  March,  1855,  on  arrival 
at  the  Lord  Warden  Hotel  at  Dover  :  — ■ 
English  mutton  and  an  English  fire  were  likely  to 
be  appreciated   by   creatures  who   had   had   eight 
months    of   Germany,  with  its  questionable  meat 
and  its  stove-heated  rooms.    The  taste  and  quietude 
of  a  first-rate  English  hotel  were  also  in  striking 
contrast  with  the  heavy  finery,  the  noise,  and  the 
indiscriminate    smoking    of    German    inns.       But 
after  all,  Germany  is  no  bad  place  to  live  in ;  and 
the  Germans,  to  counterbalance  their  want  of  taste 
and  politeness,  are  at  least  free  from  the  bigotry 
of  exclusiveness  of  their  more  refined  cousins.     I 
even  long   to   be    amongst   them  again,  —  to   see 
Dresden,    and    Munich,    and    Niirnberg,    and   the 
Ehine  country.     May  the  day  soon  come! 


286  Summary. 


SUMMARY. 

JULY,   1854,    TO   MAKCH,    1855. 

Leaves  London  with   Mr.  Lewes  for  Antwerp  —  Rubens's  pic- 
tures—  Cologne  —  Dr.  Brabant  and   Strauss — Weimar  —  Scholl 

—  The  Dichter  Zimmer  —  Sauppe  —  Tief urt  —  Ettersburg  — 
Arthur  Helps  —  Gabel-Bach  and  Kickel-halin  —  Liszt —  Wagner's 
operas  —  "  Der  rreischiitz  "  —  tSchiller's  house  —  Goethe's  house 

—  Gartenhaus  —  Ober  Weimar  —  The  Webieht  —  Marquis  de 
Ferriere — Liszt  anecdotes — Cornelius — liaff  —  Princess  Witt- 
genstein —  Liszt's  playing  —  ISchett'er's  picture  —  Expenses  at 
Weimar  —  Leave  for  Berlin  —  Meet  Varnhageu  —  Thiergarten  — 
Acquaintances  in  Berlin  —  Fraulein  Solmar  —  I'rofessor  Gruppe  — 
Epic  of  Eirdusi — Waagen — Edward  Magnus— Professor  fctahr 
and  Fanny  Lewald  —  Rauch  the  sculptor  —  Kauts  statue  — 
Dessoir  the  actor  — "Nathan  der  Weise  " —  Doring's  acting  — 
Johanna  Wagner  —  Letter  to  Miss  Ilennell  —  "  Fidelio  "  —  Head- 
ing Stalir's  "Torso"  —  Likeness  of  Schiller  —  Yivier  —  Roger 
and  Arabella  Goddard  —  The  Rosse-bandiger  —  Pictures  —  Cold 
in  Berlin  —  View  of  Schloss  from  bridge  —  Leave  Berlin  for 
England  —  Books  read  —  Article  written  on  Madame  de  Sable  — 
Translation  of  Spinoza's  "  Ethics  "  —  Article  on  Vehse's  "  Court 
of  Austria  "  —  Article  on  Stahr. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

March   14.  — Took   lodgings   at   1  Sydney  Place,  ^^^^^^^ 
Dover.  is55.  ' 

March  15. —  A  lovely  day.  As  I  walked  up  the 
Castle  hill  this  afternoon,  the  town,  with  its  back- 
ground of  softly  rounded  hills  shrouded  in  sleepy 
haze,  its  little  lines  of  water  looking  golden  in  the 
sun,  made  a  charming  picture.  I  have  written 
the  preface  to  the  "  Third  Book  of  Ethics, "  read 
Scherr,  and  Shakspeare's  "  Venus  and  Adonis." 

March  16.  — I  read  Shakspeare's  "Passionate 
Pilgrim"  at  breakfast,  and  found  a  sonnet  in  which 
he  expresses  admiration  of  Spenser  (Sonnet  VI.)  :  — 


G.  writes 
that  this 
sonnet  is 
Barnfield's. 

[Note  written 
later.] 


"  Dowland  to  thee  is  dear,  whose  heavenly  touch 
Upon  the  lute  doth  ravish  human  sense; 
""     Spenser  to  me,  whose  deep  conceit  is  such 
As,  passing  all  conceit,  needs  no  defence." 


I  must  send  word  of  this  to  G. ,  who  has  written 
in  his  "  Goethe"  that  Shakspeare  has  left  no  line  in 
praise  of  a  contemporary.  I  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  of  walking  out  before  I  sat  down  to 
work.  Came  in  at  half-past  ten,  and  translated 
Spinoza  till  nearly  one.  Walked  out  again  till 
two.  After  dinner  read  "  Two  Gentlemen  of 
Verona,"  and  some  of  the  Sonnets.  That  play 
disgusted  me  more  than  ever  in  the  final  scene, 
where  Valentine,  on  Proteus 's  mere  begging  par- 


288  Sappier  for  Experience  Abroad.      [dover, 

Journal,       don,  wheii  he  has  no  longer  any  hope  of  gainincf 

March,  1855.   ■,   ■  ■,  «    All     ^i      I  •  •        n -i     •         5 

his  ends,  says :  All  that  was  mine  m  Silvia,  I 
give  thee !  "  Silvia  standing  by.  Walked  up  the 
Castle  hill  again,  and  came  in  at  six.  Eead 
Scherr,  and  found  an  important  hint  that  I  have 
made  a  mistake  in  a  sentence  of  my  article  on 
Austria  about  the  death  of  Franz  von  Sickingen 
Letter  to  I  dai'csay  you  will    be    surprised    to  see  that  I 

Heuneur      Write  froiu  Dover.      We  left  Berlin  on  the   11th. 
isk    ""  '  I  have  taken  lodgings  here  for  a  little  while,  until 
Mr.    Lewes  has    concluded   some  arrangements  in 
London;  and  with  the  aid  of  lovely  weather,   am 
even  enjoying  my  solitude,  though  I  don't  mind 
how  soon  it  ends.     News  of  you  all  at  Rosehill  — 
how  health,  and  business,  and  all  other  things  are 
faring —  would  be  very  welcome  to  me,  if  you  can 
find  time  for  a  little  note  of  homely  details.     I  am 
well  and  calmly  happy,  ■ —  feeling  much  stronger 
and  clearer  in  mind  for  the  last  eight  months  of 
new  experience.      We  were  sorry  to  leave  our  quiet 
rooms  and  agreeable  friends  in  Berlin,  though  the 
place  itself  is  certainly  ugly,  and  am  Ende  must 
become  terribly  wearisome  for  those  who  have  not 
a  vocation  there.     We  went  again  and  again  to  the 
new  museum  to  look  at  the  casts  of  the  Parthenon 
Sculptures,  and  registered  a  vow  that  we  would  go 
to  feast  on  the  siglit  of  the  originals  the  first  day 
we  could  spare  in  London.     I  had  never  cast  more 
than  a  fleeting  look  on  them  before,  but  now  I  can 
in  some  degree  understand  the  effect  they  produced 
on  their  first  discovery, 
wnai,  March   25.  — A    note    from    Mr.    Chapman,    in 

which  he  asks  me  to  undertake  part  of  the 
Contemporary  Literature  for  the  "  Westminster 
Eeview. " 


1855.]  Books  Read,  289 

April    18.  —  Came    to    town,    to    lodgings    in  Journal, 
Bayswater.  ^^• 

April  23.  —  Fixed  on  lodgings  at  East  Sheen. 
April  25.  —  Went  to  the  British  Museum. 
April   28.  —  Finished   article   on  Weimar,   for 
"  Fraser. " 

During  this  month  George  Eliot  was  finish- 
ing the  translating  and  revising  of  Spinoza's 
Ethics,  and  was  still  reading  Scherr's  book, 
Schrader's  "German  Mythology," — a  "poor 
book,"— "The  Tempest,"  "Macbeth,"  "  Nie- 
belungenlied, "  "  Eomeo  and  Juliet,"  article  on 
Dryden  in  the  "  Westminster,"  "  Eeineke  Fuchs," 
"Genesis  of  Science,"  Gibbon,  "Henry  V,," 
"  Henry  VIII. , "  first,  second,  and  third  parts 
of  "  Henry  VI. , "  "  Eichard  II.  " 
May  2.  —  Came  to  East  Sheen,  and  settled  in  our 
lodgings. 

May  28.  —  Sent  Belles  Lettres  section  to  "  West- 
minster Eeview. "  During  May  several  articles 
were  written  for  the  "  Leader. " 

June  13.  — Began  Part  IV.  of  Spinoza's  Ethics. 
Began  also  to  read  Gumming  for  article  in  the 
"  Westminster.  "  We  are  reading  in  the  evenings 
now  Sydney  Smith's  letters,  Boswell,  Whewell's 
"  History  of  Inductive  Sciences, "  "  The  Odyssey, " 
and  occasionally  Heine's  "  Eeisebilder.  "  I  began 
the  second  book  of  the  "  Iliad, "  in  Greek,  this 
morning. 

June  21.  —  Finished  article  on  Brougham's 
*  Lives  of  Men  of  Letters. " 

June  23.  —  Eead  "  Lucrezia  Floriani.  "  We  are 
reading  White's  "  History  of  Selborne "  in  the 
evening,  with  Boswell  and  the  "  Odyssey. " 

VOL.  1—19 


290 


The  "  Life  of  Goethe."       [east  sheek. 


Letter  to 
Hiss  Sara 
Hennell, 
23d  June, 
1855. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
21st  July, 
1855. 


I  have  good  hope  that  you  will  be  deeply  inter- 
ested in  the  "  Life  of  Goethe. "  It  is  a  book  full  of 
feeling,  as  well  as  of  thought  and  information,  and 
I  even  think  it  will  make  you  love  Goethe  as  well 
as  admire  him.  Eckermann's  is  a  wonderful  book, 
but  only  represents  Goethe  at  eighty.  We  were 
fortunate  enough  to  be  in  time  to  see  poor  Ecker- 
mann  before  his  total  death.  His  mind  was 
already  half  gone,  but  the  fine  brow  and  eyes 
harmonised  entirely  with  the  interest  we  had  pre- 
viously felt  in  him.  We  saw  him  in  a  small 
lodging,  surrounded  by  singing  birds,  and  tended 
by  his  son,  —  an  intelligent  youth  of  sixteen,  who 
showed  some  talent  in  drawing.  I  have  written 
a  castigation  of  Brougham  for  the  "Leader,"  and 
shall  be  glad  if  your  sympathy  goes  along  with  it. 
Varnhagen  has  written  "  Denkwiirdigkeiten, "  and 
all  sorts  of  literature,  and  is,  or  rather  was,  the 
husband  of  Rahel,  the  greatest  of  German  women. 

It  was  surely  you  who  wrote  the  notice  of  the 
"  Westminster  "  in  the  "  Herald  "  (Coventry),  which 
we  received  this  morning.  I  am  very  much  pleased 
with  your  appreciation  of  Mr.  Lewes 's  article. 
You  hardly  do  justice  to  Fronde's  article  on 
Spinoza.  I  don't  at  all  agree  with  Eroude's  own 
views,  but  I  think  his  account  of  Spinoza's  doc- 
trines admirable.  Mr.  Lewes  is  still  sadly  ailing, 
—  tormented  with  tooth- and  face-ache.  This  is  a 
terrible  trial  to  us  poor  scribblers,  to  whom  health 
is  money,  as  well  as  all  other  things  worth  having. 
I  have  just  been  reading  that  Milton  suffered  from 
indigestion, — quite  an  affecting  fact  to  me.  I 
send  you  a  letter  which  I  have  had  from  Barbara 
Smith.  I  tliiiik  you  will  like  to  see  such  a 
manifestation  of  her  strong,   noble  nature. 


:85o.]  Removal  to  llichmond.  291 

On  1st  August,  1855,  Mr.  Lewes  went  down 
to  Eamsgate  for  change,  taking  his  three  boys 
with  him  for  a  week's  holiday.  Meantime 
George  Eliot  was  continuing  her  article-writing, 
and  in  this  week  wrote  an  article  for  the 
"  Leader, "  having  written  one  for  the  same 
journal  three  weeks  before.  On  22d  August 
she  wrote  another  article  for  the  "  Leader, "  and 
on  the  24th  she  finished  the  one  on  Gumming 
for  the  "  Westminster.  "  Mr.  C.  Lewes  tells  me 
that  he  remembers  it  was  after  reading  this 
article  that  his  father  was  prompted  to  say  to 
George  Eliot,  whilst  walking  one  day  with  her 
in  Eichmond  Park,  that  it  convinced  him  of 
the  true  genius  in  her  writing.  Mr.  Lewes 
was  not  only  an  accomplished  and  practised 
literary  critic,  but  he  was  also  gifted  with  the 
inborn  insight  accompanying  a  fine  artistic 
temperament,  which  gave  unusual  weight  to 
his  judgment.  Up  to  this  time  he  had  not 
been  quite  sure  of  anything  beyond  great  talent 
in  her  productions. 

The  first  three  weeks  in  September  were 
again  busily  occupied  in  article- writing.  She 
contributed  three  papers  to  the  "  Leader, "  as 
well  as  the  Belles  Lettres  section  for  the 
October  number  of  the  "  Westminster.  "  On  the 
19th  September  they  left  East  Sheen,  and  after 
spending  a  couple  of  weeks  at  Worthing  for  a 
sea  change,  they  took  rooms  at  8  Park  Shot, 
Eichmond,  which  remained  their  home  for 
more  than  three  years.  Here  some  of  George 
Eliot's  most  memorable  literary  work  was 
accomplished.  Both  she  and  Mr.  Lewes  were 
now  working  very  hard  for  what  would  bring 


292 


Article  on  Cumming.  [Richmond, 


Letter  to 


immediate  profit,  as  they  had  to  support  not 
only  themselves  but  his  children  and  their 
mother.  They  had  only  one  sitting-room  be- 
tween them ;  and  I  remember,  in  a  walk  on  St. 
George's  Hill,  near  Weybridge,  in  1871,  she 
told  me  that  the  scratching  of  another  pen  used 
to  affect  her  nerves  to  such  an  extent  that  it 
nearly  drove  her  wild.  On  the  9th  October 
she  finished  an  article  on  Margaret  Fuller  and 
Mary  Wollstouecraft,  and  on  the  12tli  October 
one  on  Carlyle  for  the  "  Leader,"  and  began  an 
article  on  Heine  for  the  January  number  of  the 
"  Westminster. "  In  October  there  are  the  fol- 
lowing letters  to  the  Brays  :  — 
Since  you  have  found  out  the  "  Cumming, "  I  write 
Monday^^'  by  to-day's  post  just  to  say  that  it  is  mine,  but 
Oct.  (?)  1855.  ^igQ  |.Q  i^gg  |.j^j^^  yQ^^  ^y^]j  ^^Q^  mention  it  as  such 

to  any  one  likely  to  transmit  the  information  to 
London,  as  we  are  keeping  the  authorship  a  secret. 
The  article  appears  to  have  produced  a  strong 
impression,  and  that  impression  would  be  a  little 
counteracted  if  the  author  were  known  to  be  a 
woman.  I  have  had  a  letter  addressed  "  to  the 
author  of  Article  No.  4,"  begging  me  to  print  it 
separately  "  for  the  good  of  mankind  in  general " ! 
It  is  so  kind  of  you  to  rejoice  in  anything  I  do  at 
all  well.  I  am  dreadfully  busy  again,  for  I  am 
going  to  write  an  article  for  the  "  Westminster 
Eeview"  again,  besides  my  other  work.  We  enjoy 
our  new  lodgings  very  much, — everything  is  the 
pink  of  order  and  cleanliness. 

Why  you  should  object  to  Herbert  Spencer 
speaking  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  contributions 
to  n  theory  of  perception  as  "  valuable, "  I  am 
unable   to   conceive.     Sir  William  Hamilton  has 


Lettter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennoll, 
IGth  Oct. 
1856. 


1855.]  Physiological  Beading.  293 

been  of  service  to  him  as  well  as  to  others;  and  Letter  to 
instead  of  repressing  acknowledgments  of  merit  in  Ke^meii, 
others,  I  should  like  them  to  be  more  freely  given.  1^5. 
I  see  no  dignity  or  anything  else  that  is  good  in 
ignoring  one's  fellow-beings.  Herbert  Spencer's 
views,  like  every  other  man's  views,  could  not 
have  existed  without  the  substratum  laid  by  his 
predecessors.  But  perhaps  you  mean  something 
that  I  fail  to  perceive.  Your  bit  of  theology  is 
very  fine.  Here  is  a  delicious  Hibernicism  in 
return.  In  a  treatise  on  consumption,  sent  yester- 
day, the  writer  says :  "  There  is  now  hardly  any 
difference  on  this  subject,  — at  least  /feel  none." 
Our  life  has  no  incidents  except  such  as  take  place 
in  our  own  brains,  and  the  occasional  arrival  of  a 
longer  letter  than  usual.  Yours  are  always  read 
aloud  and  enjoyed.  Nevertheless  our  life  is  in- 
tensely occupied,  and  the  days  are  far  too  short. 
We  are  reading  Gall's  "  Anatomic  et  Physiologic 
du  Cerveau  "  and  Carpenter's  "  Comparative  Physi- 
ology," aloud  in  the  evenings;  and  I  am  trying  to 
fix  some  knowledge  about  plexuses  and  ganglia  in 
my  soft  brain,  which  generally  only  serves  me  to 
remember  that  there  is  something  I  ought  to  re- 
member, and  to  regret  that  I  did  not  put  the  some- 
thing down  in  my  note-book.  For  "  Live  and  learn," 
we  should  sometimes  read,  "  Live  and  grow  stupid.  " 

You  will   receive  by  rail    to-morrow  a  copy  of  Letter  io 
the  "  Life  and  Works  of  Goethe  "  (published  on  1st  o^^tml?' 
November),   which    I   hope    you  will    accept  as  a  ^^^' 
keepsake    from    me.     I  should  have  been  glad  to 
send  it  you  earlier,  but  as  Mr.  Lewes  has  sold  the 
copyright  of  the  first  edition,  he  has  only  a  small 
number  of  copies  at  his  disposal,  and  so  I  doubted 
whether  I  ought  to  ask  for  one.     I  think  you  will 


294 


Miscellaneous  Writing.         [Richmond 


Letter  to 
Chiis.  Bray, 
'2lBt  Nov. 
1855. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Heiuiell, 
iiiJih  Nov. 
1855. 


Journal, 
1855. 


find  much  to  interest  you  in  the  book.  I  can't 
tell  you  how  I  value  it,  as  the  best  product  of  a 
mind  which  I  have  every  day  more  reason  to 
admire  and  love.  We  have  had  much  gratification 
in  the  expression  of  individual  opinion.  The  press 
is  very  favourable,  but  the  notices  are  for  the  most 
part  too  idiotic  to  give  us  much  pleasure,  except 
in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view.  I  am  going  out  to- 
day, for  the  first  time  for  nearly  a  fortnight. 

I  have  just  finished  a  long  article  on  Heine  for 
the  "  Westminster  lieview, "  which  none  of  you  will 
like.  En  revanche,  Mr.  Lewes  has  written  one  on 
Lions   and   Lion   Hunters,    which    you   will   find 


amusing. 


Journal, 
1856. 


On   the    12th   December   the   Belles   Lettres 
section  for  the  January  number  of  the'  "  West- 
minster Eeview  "  was  finished  and  sent  off,  and 
the  next  entry  in  the  Journal  is  dated  — 
Dec.  24,  1855.  —  For  the  last  ten  days  I  have  done 
little,  owing  to  headache  and  other  ailments.     Began 
the  "  Antigone,"  read  Von  Bohlen  on  Genesis,  and 
Swedenborg.     Mr.  Chapman  wants  me  to  write  an 
article  on  Missions  and  Missionaries,  for  the  April 
number  of  the  "  Westminster,"  but  I  think  I  shall 
not  have  it  ready  till  the   July  number.     In  the 
afternoon  I  set  out  on  my  journey  to  see  my  sister, 
and  arrived  at  her  house  about  eight  o'clock,  finding 
her  and  her  children  well. 

Dec.  29,  1855. —  Eeturned  to  Eichmond.  G. 
away  at  Vernon  Hill  (Arthur  Helps's),  having 
gone  thither  on  Wednesday. 

Dec.  30,  1855.  — Eead  the  "Shaving  of  Shagpat" 
(George  Meredith's). 

Dec.  31,  1855.  — Wrote  a  review  of  "Shagpat." 

Jan.l,  1856.  — Eead  Kingsley's  "Greek  Heroes," 
and  began  a  review  of  Von  Bohlen. 


1856.]  "  Life  of  Goetlier  295 

Jan.  5,  1856.  —  G.  came  home.  journal, 

Jan.  6,  1856.  —  Began  to  revise  Book  IV.  of  Spi-  ^'^'^• 
noza's   "Ethics,"  and  continued  this  work  through 
the  week,  being  able  to  work  but  slowly.     Finished 
Kahnis'  "  History  of  German  Protestantism." 

Jan.  16,  1856.  —  Received  a  charming  letter  from 
Barbara  Smith,  with  a  petition  to  Parliament  that 
women  may  have  a  right  to  their  earnings. 

I   believe  there   have  been    at  least  a  thousand  Letter  to 
copies  of  the  "  Goethe  "  sold,  which  is  a  wonderfully  Heuueiif 
good  sale  in  less  than  three  months  for  a  30s-.  book.  i^e.  ^ 
We  have  a  charming  collection  of  letters,  both  from 
remarkable  acquaintances   and  remarkable  non-ac- 
quaintances, expressing  enthusiastic  delight  in  the 
book,  —  letters  all  the  more  delightful  because  they 
are  quite  spontaneous,  and  spring  from  a  generous 
wish  to  let  the  author  know  how  highly  the  writers 
value  his  work.     If  you  want  some  idle  reading,  get 
the  "  Shavhig  of  Shagpat,"  which  I  think  you  will 
say  deserves  all  the  praise  I  gave  it. 

Feb.  19,  1856.  —  Since  the  6th  January  I  have  Journal, 
been  occupied  with  Spinoza;  and,  except  a  review 
of  Griswold's  "American  Poets,"  have  done  nothing 
else  but  translate  the  Fifth  Book  of  the  "  Ethics," 
and  revise  the  whole  of  my  translation  from  the 
beginning.  This  evening  I  have  finished  my 
revision. 

I  was  so  glad  to  have  a  little  news  of  you.     I  Letter  to 
should   like   to   hear  much  oftener,   but   our   days  Henneu, 
are  so  accurately  parcelled  out  among  regular  occu-  isse. 
pations,  that  I  rarely  manage  to  do   anything  not 
included  in  the  programme  ;   and  without  reading 
Mrs.  Barbauld   on   the    "Inconsistency  of  Human 
Expectations,"  I  know  that  receiving  letters  is  in- 
consistent with  not  writing   any.     Have  you  seen 


296 


Harriet  Martineau. 


[kichmond, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Heuuell, 
19th  Feb. 
1856. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell. 
25th  Feb. 
1866. 


Letter  to 
Mi  SB  Sara 
TIennell, 
end  of  Feb. 
1856. 


any  numbers  of  the  "Saturday  Eeview,"  a  new 
journal,  on  wlncli  "  all  the  talents "  are  engaged  ? 
It  is  not  properly  a  newspaper,  hut  —  what  its 
title  expresses  —  a  political  and  literary  Review. 
We  are  delightmg  ourselves  with  Kuskin's  third 
volume,  which  contains  some  of  the  finest  writing  I 
have  read  for  a  long  time  (among  recent  books).  I 
read  it  aloud  for  an  hour  or  so  after  dinner ;  then  we 
jump  to  the  old  dramatists,  when  Mr.  Lew3s  reads  to 
me  as  long  as  his  voice  will  hold  out,  and  after  this 
we  wind  up  the  evenmg  with  Eymer  Jones's  •  Animal 
Kingdom,"  by  which  I  get  a  confused  knowledge  of 
branchise,  and  such  things,  —  perhaps,  on  the  whole, 
a  little  preferable  to  total  ignorance.  These  are-  our 
nodes  —  without  cenceiox  the  present  —  occasionally 
diversified  by  very  dramatic  singing  of  Figaro,  &c., 
which,  I  think,  must  alarm  "  that  good  man,  th-^ 
clergyman,"  who  sits  below  us.  We  have  been  half 
laughing,  half  indignant  over  Alison's  new  volume 
of  his  "  History  of  Europe,"  in  which  he  undertakes 
to  give  an  account  of  German  literature. 

What  you  tell  me  of  Harriet  Martineau  interests 
me  very  much.  I  feel  for  her  terril)le  bodily  suffer- 
ing, and  think  of  her  with  deep  respect  and  admira- 
tion. Whatever  may  have  been  her  mistakes  and 
weaknesses,  the  great  and  good  things  she  has  done 
far  outweigh  them ;  and  I  should  be  grieved  if 
anything  in  her  memoir  should  cast  a  momentary 
shadow  over  the  agreeable  imoge  of  her  that  the 
world  will  ultimately  keep  in  its  memory.  I  wish 
less  of  our  piety  were  spent  on  imaginary  perfect 
goodness,  and  more  given  to  real  wiperfect  goodness. 

I  am  very  happy  for  you  to  keep  the  sheets,  and 
to  get  signatures  (for  the  Women's  Petition  that 
they  should  have  legal  right  to  their  own  earnings). 


1856.]  Spinoza's  Ethios.  297 

Miss  Barbara  Smith  writes  that  she  must  have  them  Letter  to 
returned  to  her  before  the  1st  of  March.     I  am  glad  Henncu? 
you  have  taken  up  the  cause,  for  I  do  think  that,  i806.°^^^^ 
with  proper  provisos  and  safeguards,  the  proposed 
law  would  help  to  raise  the  position  and  character 
of  women.     It  is  one  round  of  a  long  ladder  stretch- 
ing far  beyond  our  lives. 

During  March  George    Eliot  wrote  only  the 
Belles  Lettres  section  for  the  April  number  of 
the  "  Westminster,"  having  resigned  the  subject 
of  "  Missions  "  to  Harriet  Martineau.     She  also 
wrote  two  articles  for  the    "  Saturday  Eeview," 
and  two  for  the  "Leader,"     And  there  are  the 
following  letters  in  March  to  the  Brays,  in  which 
allusion  is  made  to  their  leaving  the  old  home 
at  Kosehill,  owing  to  the  unsatisfactory  state  of 
the  Coventry  business. 
We  are  flourishing  in  every  way  except  in  health.  Letter  to 
Mr.  Lewes's  head  is   still  infirm,   but  he  manages,  2Gtifkarc£ 
nevertheless,   to  do  twice  as    much  work  as  other  ^^^^' 
people.     I  am  always  a  croaker,  you  know,  but  my 
ailments  are  of  a  small  kind,  their  chief  symptoms 
being  a  muddled  brain  ;  and  as  my  pen  is  not  of 
the  true  literary  order  which  will  run  along  with- 
out the  help  of  brains,  I  don't  get  through  so  much 
work  as  I  should  like.     By  the  way,  when  the  Spi- 
noza comes  out,  be  so  good  as  not  to  mention  my 
name  in  connection  with  it.     I  particularly  wish 
not  to  be  known  as  the  translator  of  the  "  Ethics," 
for  reasons  which   it   would    be    "  too   tedious   to 
mention."     You  don't  know  what  a  severely  practi- 
cal person  I  am  become,  and  what  a  sharp  eye  I 
have  to  the  main  chance.     I  keep  the  purse,  and 
dole  out  sovereigns  with  all  the  pangs  of  a  miser, 
lu  fact,  if  you  were  to  feel  my  bump  of  acquisitive- 


298 


Brays  leaving  Bosehill.         [Richmond, 


Letter  to 
Cbas.  Bray, 
2Cth  March, 
185<3. 


Letter  to 
Chas.  Bray, 
31st  March, 
185& 


Letter  to 
Chas.  Bray, 
1st  April, 
1856. 


ness,  I  daresay  you  would  find  it  in  a  state  of 
inflammation,  like  the  "  veneration  "  of  that  clergy- 
man to  whom  Mr.  Donovan  said,  "  Sir,  you  have 
recently  been  engaged  in  prayer."  I  hope  you  rec- 
ognised your  own  wit  about  the  one-eyed  dissenters, 
which  was  quoted  in  the  "  Leader "  some  time  ago. 
You  always  said  no  one  did  so  much  justice  to 
your   jokes   as  I  did. 

My  mind  is  more  rebellious  than  yours,  and  I 
can't  help  being  saddened  by  the  idea  of  you  and 
Cara  being  in  any  other  home  than  the  dear  old 
one.  But  I  know  that  your  cheerful  courage  is 
yet  stronger  in  deed  than  in  word.  Will  not  busi- 
ness or  pleasure  bring  you  to  London  soon,  and 
will  you  not  come  to  see  us  ?  We  can  give  you  a 
bed,  —  not  a  sumptuous  one,  but  one  which  you  will 
perhaps  not  find  intolerable  for  a  night.  I  know 
the  trip  up  the  Thames  is  charming,  and  we  should 
like  to  do  it  with  you,  but  I  don't  think  we  can 
manage  it  this  summer.  We  are  going  to  send 
or  take  the  boys  (Mr.  Lewes's  sons)  to  school  in 
Germany  at  midsummer,  and  are  at  present  uncer- 
tain about  our  arrangements.  If  we  can  send  them, 
we  shall  go  to  the  coast  as  soon  as  the  warm 
weather  comes,  and  remain  there  for  three  months. 
But  our  plans  are  not  yet  crystallised. 

After  I  wrote  you  yesterday  morning  we  had  a 
letter  from  Germany  which  has  made  Mr.  Lewes 
incline  to  defer  sending  the  boys  thither  till  next 
year.  But  he  is  anxious  to  remove  them  from  their 
present  school;  and  in  the  course  of  our  consulta- 
tions on  the  subject,  we  thought  of  Mr.  John  Sil^ree 
as  a  person  in  whom  we  should  feel  confidence  as 
to  the  moral  influence  he  would  exercise  as  a  tutor. 
The  risk  of  placing  children  with  entire  strangers  ia 


J856.]        Plan  of  sending  Boys  to  Hofwyl.  299 

terrible.  So  I  tease  you  with  another  letter  to  ask 
you  if  Mr.  J.  Sibree  continues  in  the  same  position 
as  formerly,  and  if  he  is  still  anxious  to  obtain 
pupils.  What  a  delicious  day !  We  are  going  to 
have  a  holiday  at  the  Zoological  Gardens. 

Thank  you  for  taking  the  trouble  to  write  me  Letter  to 
a  full  account  of  matters  so  interesting  to  me.  I  Henneu* 
hope  you  will  be  able  thoroughly  to  enjoy  this  last  is^'of^'''^' 
precious  summer  on  the  pretty  lawn,  where  it  is 
one  of  my  pleasures  on  sunshiny  days  to  think  of 
you  all  strolling  about  or  seated  on  the  Bearskin. 
We  are  very  thankful  for  the  Hofwyl  circular,  and 
have  almost  decided  to  send  the  two  eldest  boys 
there.  But  it  is  necessary  to  weigh  all  things 
carefully  before  coming  to  a  determination ;  as  not 
being  either  swindlers  or  philanthropists,  we  don't 
like  to  incur  obligations  which  there  is  not  a  rea- 
sonable certainty  of  our  being  able  to  meet.  I 
am  much  obliged  to  Mr.  Bray,  too,  for  sending 
Mr.  John  Sibree's  letter.  Mr.  Lewes  had  already 
received  an  answer  from  him  declining  his  propo- 
sition, but  we  were  interested  to  read  his  very 
characteristic  letter  to  his  sister,  which  proved  to 
Mr.  Lewes  that  I  had  given  him  a  correct  descrip- 
tion of  the  man. 

The  next  few  weeks  are,  perhaps,  the  most 
signally  important  and  interesting  of  all  in 
George  Eliot's  development.  There  are  unmis- 
takable signs  of  the  rising  of  the  sap  of  creative 
production. 

In  the  middle  of  April  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer, 
who  had  been  away  from  London  for  some  time, 
returned  to  town,  and  dined  with  them  at  Park 
Shot  on  the  15th,  and  on  the  IStli  they  went 
with   him   to  Sydenham.      On  the   22d   April 


ISoti. 


300  Journey  to  Itfracomhe.     [ilf-eacombe, 

George  Eliot  began  her  article  on  Young ;  and 
on  the  29th  she  began  to  read  Eiehl's  book,^  on 
which  she  was  to  write  another  article  for  the 
"  Westminster."  On  the  8th  of  May  they  set  off 
for  Ilfracombe,  and  we  have  the  following  "  rec- 
ollections "  of  that  place :  — 
nfracombe,  It  was  a  cold  unfriendly  day  —  the  8th  of  May —  on 
tious^May,  which  wc  sct  out  for  Ilfracombe  with  our  hamper  of 
glass  jars,  which  we  meant  for  our  sea-side  vivarium. 
We  had  to  get  down  at  Windsor,  and  were  not 
sorry  that  the  interval  was  long  enough  to  let  us 
walk  round  the  Castle,  which  I  had  never  seen  be- 
fore except  from  a  distance.  The  famous  "  slopes," 
the  avenues  in  the  Park,  and  the  distant  landscape 
looked  very  lovely  in  the  fresh  and  delicate  greens 
of  spring ;  and  the  Castle  is  surely  the  most  de- 
lightful royal  residence  in  the  world.  We  took  our 
places  from  Windsor  all  the  way  to  Exeter;  and 
at  Bristol,  where  we  had  to  wait  three  hours,  the 
misery  of  my  terrible  headache  was  mitigated  by 
the  interest  we  felt  in  seeing  the  grand  old  Church 
of  St.  Mary  Eedcliffe,  forever  associated  with  the 
memory  of  Chatterton  — 

"  It  stands,  the  maestrie  of  a  human  hand, 
The  pride  of  Bristowe  and  the  western  land." 

It  was  cheering  the  next  morning  after  our  arrival 
at  Ilfracombe  to  get  up  with  a  head  rather  less  ach- 
ing, and  to  walk  up  and  down  the  little  garden  of 
Eunnymede  Villa  in  the  bright  sunshine.  I  had  a 
great  deal  of  work  before  me,  —  the  writing  of  an 
article  on  Eiehl's  books,  which  I  had  not  half  read, 
as  well  as  the  article  on  Belles  Lettres;  but  mv 
head  was   s^iiU  dizzy,  and  it  seemed  impossible  to 

J  "  Land  und  Volk." 


1856.]  Description  of  Scenery.  301 

sit  down  to  writing  at  once  in  these  new  scenes,  nfracombe, 
so  we  determined  to  spend  the  day  in  explorations,    tions,  May, 

From  our  windows  we  had  a  view  of  the  higher 
part  of  the  town,  and  generally  it  looked  uninter- 
esting enough ;  but  what  is  it  that  light  cannot 
transfigure  into  beauty  ?  One  evening  after  a  shower, 
as  the  sun  was  setting  over  the  sea  behind  us, 
some  peculiar  arrangement  of  clouds  threw  a  deli- 
cious evening  light  on  the  irregular  cluster  of  houses, 
and  merged  the  ugliness  of  their  forms  in  an  ex- 
quisite flood  of  colour,  —  as  a  stupid  person  is 
made  glorious  by  a  noble  deed.  A  perfect  rain- 
bow arched  over  the  picture.  From  one  end  of 
the  Capstone  we  have  an  admirable  bit  for  a 
picture.  In  the  background  rises  old  Helesborough, 
jutting  out  far  into  the  sea,  —  rugged  and  rocky 
as  it  fronts  the  waves,  green  and  accessible  land- 
ward :  in  front  of  this  stands  Lantern  Hill,  a  pic- 
turesque mass  of  green  and  grey,  surmounted  by 
an  old  bit  of  building  that  looks  as  if  it  were 
the  habitation  of  some  mollusc  that  had  secreted 
its  shell  from  the  material  of  the  rock;  and  quite 
in  the  foreground,  contrasting  finely  in  colour  with 
the  rest,  are  some  lower  perpendicular  rocks  of 
dark-brown  tints,  patched  here  and  there  with  vivid 
green.  In  hilly  districts,  where  houses  and  clusters 
of  houses  look  so  tiny  against  the  huge  limbs  of 
mother  earth,  one  cannot  help  thinking  of  man 
as  a  parasitic  animal,  —  an  epizoou  making  his 
abode  in  the  skin  of  the  planetary  organism.  In 
a  flat  country,  a  house  or  a  town  looks  imposing : 
there  is  nothing  to  rival  it  in  height,  and  we  may 
imagine  the  earth  a  mere  pedestal  for  us.  But 
when  one  sees  a  house  stuck  on  the  side  of  a 
great  hill,  and  still  more,  a  number  of  houses  look- 


302 


Naturalistic  Experiences,     [ilfkacombe, 


lUracombe, 

Kecollec- 
tions,  May, 
Juue,  1S50. 


ing  like  a  few  barnacles  clustered  on  the  side  of 
a  great  rock,  we  begin  to  think  of  the  strong 
family  likeness  between  ourselves  and  all  other 
building,  burrowing,  house-appropriating,  and  shell- 
secreting  animals.  The  difi'erence  between  a  man 
with  his  house  and  a  mollusc  with  its  shell  lies 
in  the  number  of  steps  or  phenomena  interposed 
between  the  fact  of  individual  existence  and  the 
completion  of  the  building.  Whatever  other  ad- 
vantages we  may  have  over  molluscs  and  insects 
in  our  habitations,  it  is  clear  that  their  architec- 
ture has  the  advantage  of  ours  in  beauty,  —  at 
least,  considered  as  the  architecture  of  the  species. 
Look  at  man  in  the  light  of  a  shell-fish,  and  it 
must  be  admitted  that  his  shell  is  generally  ugly ; 
and  it  is  only  after  a  great  many  more  "  steps  or 
phenomena  "  that  he  secretes  here  and  there  a  won- 
derful shell  in  the  shape  of  a  temple  or  a  palace. 

On  our  first  zoophyte  hunt  it  was  characteristic 
of  the  wide  difference  there  is  between  having  eyes 
and  seeing,  that  in  this  region  of  sea-anemones, 
where  the  Mesembryanthemum  especially  is  as 
plenty  as  blackberries,  we  climbed  about  for  two 
hours  without  seeing  one  anemone,  and  went  in 
again  with  scarcely  anything  but  a  few  stones  and 
weeds  to  put  into  our  jars.  On  our  next  hunt, 
however,  after  we  had  been  out  some  time,  G. 
exclaimed,  "  I  see  an  anemone ! "  And  we  were 
immensely  excited  by  the  discovery  of  this  little 
red  Mesembryanthemum,  which  we  afterwards  dis- 
dained to  gather,  as  much  as  if  it  had  been  a 
nettle.  It  was  a  crescendo  of  delight  when  we 
found  a  "  strawberry, "  and  a  fortissimo  when  I  for 
the  first  time  saw  the  pale  fawn-coloured  tentacles 
of  an  Anthca  ccreus  viciously  waving   like   little 


1856.]  Zoological  Exjpeditioiis.  303 

serpents  in  a  low-tide  pool.     But  not  a  polype  for  luracombe, 
a  long,  long  while  could  even  G.  detect,  after  all  tions,  May, 
his  reading,  —  so  necessary  is  it  for  the  eye  to  be  ^^^' 
educated  by  objects  as  well  as  ideas.     Every  day  I 
gleaned  some  little  bit  of  naturalistic  experience, 
either  through  G. 's  calling  on  me  to  look  through 
the  microscope,  or  from  hunting  on  the  rocks ;  and 
this  in  spite  of  my  preoccupation  with  my  article, 
which    I   worked    at   considerably  a   contr-e-cceiir, 
despairing  of  it  ever  being  worth  anything.    When 
at  last,  by  the  17th  of  June,  both  my  articles  were 
despatched,    I    felt    delightfully    at    liberty,    and 
determined    to   pay  some    attention   to   seaweeds, 
which  I  had  never  seen  in  such  beauty  as  at  Ilfra- 
combe.     For  hitherto  I  had  been  chiefly  on  chalky 
and  sandy  shores,  where  there  were  no  rock-pools  to 
show  off  the  lovely  colours  and  forms  of  the  algai. 
There  are   tide-pools   to   be  seen   almost  at  every 
other  step  on  the  shore  at  Ilfracombe ;  and  I  shall 
never  forget  their  appearance  when  we  first  arrived 
there.      The   Corallina    ojicinalis  was    then  in  its 
greatest  perfection,  and  with  its  purple-pink  fronds 
threw    into   relief   the   dark    olive   fronds    of   the 
Laminarise  on  one  side  and  the  vivid  green  of  the 
Ulva  and  Enteromorpha  on  the  other.     After  we 
had   been   there  a  few   weeks,   the   Corallina  was 
faded ;   and  I  noticed  the   Mesogloia    vermicularis 
and  the  M.   virescens,  which    look  very  lovely  in 
the  water  from  the  white  cilia,   which  make  the 
most  delicate  fringe  to  their  yellow-brown,  whip- 
like fronds,  and  some  of  the  common  Polysiphonise. 
These  tide-pools  made  me  quite  in  love  with  sea- 
weeds, so  I  took  up  Landsborough's  book  and  tried 
to  get  a  little  more  light  on  their  structure   and 
history. 


304  Rev.  Mr.  Tugwell.         [ilfracombe, 

nfracombe,  OuT  zoological  expeditions  alternated  with  deli- 
tiouslMay,  cious  inland  walks.  I  think  the  country  looked 
June,  1856.  j^g  -^^^^  when  We  arrived.  It  was  just  that  mo- 
ment in  spring  when  the  leaves  are  in  full  leaf, 
but  still  keep  their  delicate  varieties  of  colouring, 
and  that  transparency  which  belongs  only  to  this 
season.  And  the  furze  was  in  all  its  golden  glory ! 
It  was  almost  like  the  fading  away  of  the  evening 
red,  when  tlie  furze  blossoms  died  off  from  the 
hills,  and  the  only  contrast  left  was  that  of  the 
marly  soil  with  the  green  crops  and  woods.  The 
primroses  were  the  contemporaries  of  the  furze, 
and  sprinkled  the  sides  of  the  hills  with  their  pale 
stars  almost  as  plentifully  as  daisies  or  buttercups 
elsewhere.  But  the  great  charm  of  all  Devonshire 
lanes  is  the  springs  that  you  detect  gurgling  in 
shady  recesses,  covered  with  liverwort,  with  here 
and  there  waving  tufts  of  fern  and  other  broad- 
leaved  plants  that  love  obscurity  and  moisture. 

We  seemed  to  make  less  of  our  evenings  at  Ilfra- 
combe than  we  have  ever  done  elsewhere.  We 
used  often  to  be  tired  with  our  hunting  or  walk- 
ing; and  w^e  were  reading  books  which  did  not 
make  us  take  them  up  very  eagerly, — Gosse's 
"  Eambles  on  the  Devonshire  Coast, "  for  example  ; 
Trench's  "  Calderon,"  and  other  volumes,  taken  up 
in  a  desultory  way.  One  bit  of  reading  we  had 
there,  however,  which  interested  me  deeply.  It 
was  Masson's  "  Life  of  Chatterton, "  which  happily 
linked  itself  with  the  impressions  I  had  received 
from  the  sight  of  the  old  church  at  Bristol. 

Mr.  Tugwell 's  (the  curate)  acquaintance  was  a 
real  acquisition  to  us,  not  only  because  he  was  a 
companion  and  helper  in  zoological  pursuits,  but 
because  to  know  him  was  to  know  of  another  sweet 


1856.]  The  "  Meadows."  305 

Dature  in  the  world.     It  is  always  good  to  know,  mracombe, 
if  only  in  passing,  a  charming   human  being ;  it  tious^May, 
refreshes  one  like   flowers,  and  woods,  and   clear  '^""®'  ^^^' 
brooks.     One  Sunday  evening  we  walked  up  to  his 
pretty  house  to  carry  back  some  proofs  of  his,  and 
he  induced  us  to  go  in  and  have  coffee  with  him. 
He    played    on   his    harmonium,    and  we    chatted 
pleasantly.      The  last  evening  of  our  stay  at  Ilfra- 
combe  he  came  to  see  us  in  Mrs.  Webster's  drawing- 
room,  and  we  had  music  till  nearly  eleven  o'clock, 
—  a  pleasant  recollection ! 

We  only  twice  took  the  walk  beyond  Water- 
mouth  towards  Berrynarbor.  The  road  lies  through 
what  are  called  the  "  Meadows, "  which  look  like 
a  magnificent  park.  A  stream,  fringed  with  wild 
flowers  and  willows,  runs  along  the  valley,  two  or 
three  yards  from  the  side  of  the  road.  This  stream 
is  clear  as  crystal,  and  about  every  twenty  yards 
it  falls  over  a  little  artificial  precipice  of  stones. 
The  long  grass  was  waving  in  all  the  glory  of 
June,  before  the  mower  has  come  to  make  it  suffer 
a  "love  change"  from  beauties  into  sw^eet  odours; 
and  the  slopes  on  each  side  of  us  were  crowned  or 
clothed  with  fine  trees.  The  last  time  we  went 
through  these  meadows  was  on  our  last  day  at 
Ilfracombe.  Such  sunlight  and  such  deep  peace 
on  the  hills  and  by  the  stream!  Coming  back,  we 
rested  on  a  gate  under  the  trees,  and  a  blind  man 
came  up  to  rest  also.  He  told  us,  in  his  slow 
way,  what  a  fine  "  healthy  spot"  this  was, —  yes,  a 
very  healthy  spot,  —  a  healthy  spot.  And  then 
we  went  on  our  way,  and  saw  his  face  no  more. 

I  have  talked  of  the  Ilfracombe  lanes  without 
describing  them,  for  to  describe  them  one  ought  to 
know  the  names  of  all  the  lovely  wild  flowers  that 

VOL  I. —  20 


1856. 


306  The  Scientific  Spirit.       [ilfracombe, 

iifracombe,  cliister  Oil  their  banks.  Almost  every  yard  of 
tioM.june,  these  banks  is  a  "Hunt"  picture, — a  delicious 
crowding  of  mosses,  and  delicate  trefoil,  and  wild 
strawberries,  and  ferns  great  and  small.  But  the 
crowning  beauty  of  the  lanes  is  the  springs  that 
gush  out  in  little  recesses  by  the  side  of  the  road, 
—  recesses  glossy  with  liverwort  and  feathery  with 
fern.  Sometimes  you  have  the  spring  when  it  has 
grown  into  a  brook,  either  rushing  down  a  minia- 
ture cataract  by  the  lane-side,  or  flowing  gently  as 
a  "  braided  streamlet"  across  your  path.  I  never 
before  longed  so  much  to  know  the  names  of  things 
as  during  this  visit  to  Ilfracombe.  The  desire  is 
part  of  the  tendency  that  is  now  constantly  grow-- 
ing  in  me  to  escape  from  all  vagueness  and  inac- 
curacy into  the  daylight  of  distinct  vivid  ideas. 
The  mere  fact  of  naming  an  object  tends  to  give 
definiteness  to  our  conception  of  it.  We  have  then 
a  sign  which  at  once  calls  up  in  our  minds  the 
distinctive  qualities  which  mark  out  for  us  that 
particular  object  from  all  others. 

We  ascended  the  Tors  only  twice ;  for  a  tax  of 
Zd.  per  head  was  demanded  on  this  luxury,  and 
we  could  not  afford  a  sixpenny  walk  very  fre- 
quently :  yet  the  view  is  perhaps  the  very  finest 
to  be  had  at  Ilfracombe.  Bay  behind  bay,  fringed 
with  foam,  and  promontory  behind  promontory, 
each  with  its  peculiar  shades  of  purple  light,  — 
the  sweep  of  the  Welsh  coast  faintly  visible  in  the 
distance,  and  the  endless  expanse  of  sea  flecked 
with  ships  stretching  on  our  left. 

One  evening  we  v/ent  down  to  the  shore  through 
the  "  Tunnels"  to  see  the  sunset.  Standing  in  the 
"  Ladies'  Cove,"  we  had  before  us  the  sharp  frag- 
ments of  rock  jutting  out  of  the  waves  and  stand- 


1856.]  Leave  for  Tenly.  307 

ing  black   against   the  orange   and   crimson   sky.  mracombe, 
How  lovely  to   look    into   that  brilliant  distance  tioM,  June, 
and  see  the  ship  on  the  horizon    seeming  to  sail  ^^^' 
away  from  the  cold  and  dim  world  behind  it  right 
into  the  golden  glory  !     I  have  always  that  sort  of 
feeling  when  I  look  at  sunset :  it  always  seems  to 
me  that  there  in  the  West  lies  a  land  of  light  and 
warmth  and  love. 

On  the  26th  of  June  we  said  good-bye  to  Ilfra- 
combe.  The  sight  of  the  cockle-women  at  Swansea, 
where  we  had  to  wait,  would  make  a  fine  subject 
for  a  painter.  One  of  them  was  the  grandest 
woman  I  ever  saw,  —  six  feet  high,  carrying  her- 
self like  a  Greek  warrior,  and  treading  the  earth 
with  unconscious  majesty.  Her  face  was  weather- 
beaten  and  wizened,  but  her  eyes  were  bright  and 
piercing,  and  the  lines  of  her  face,  with  its  high 
cheek-bones,  strong  and  characteristic.  The  guard 
at  the  railway  station  told  us  that  one  of  the 
porters  had  been  insolent  the  other  day  to  a  cockle- 
woman,  and  that  she  immediately  pitched  him  off 
the  platform  into  the  road  below ! 

When  we  arrived  here,  I  had  not  even  read  a  Letter  to  the 
great  book  on  which  I  had  engaged  to  write  a  long  junef'isse. 
article  by  the  beginning  of   this  month ;   so  that  combe.  ^'^ 
between  work  and  zoology  and  bodily  ailments  my 
time   has    been    full  to  overflowing.     We  are  en- 
chanted with  Ilfracombe.     I  really  think  it  is  the 
loveliest  sea  place  I  ever  saw,  from  the  combina- 
tion   of    fine   rocky   coast   with   exquisite    inland 
scenery.     But  it  would    not   do  for  any  one  who 
can't  climb  rocks  and  mount  perpetual  hills;  for 
the  peculiarity  of   this  country  is   that  it  is    all 
hill  and  no  valley.     You  have  no  sooner  got  to  the 
foot  of  one  hill  than  you  begin  to  mount  another. 


308 


Zoological  Delights. 


TENBY, 


Letter  to  the  YoU 
Biays,  6th 
Juue,  ISul), 
liom  Ihra- 
combe. 


would   laugh   to   see   oui   .oom  decked  with 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Peter 
Taylor,  8th 
June,  1856. 


yellow  pie-dishes,  o.  foot  pan,  glass  jars  and  phials, 
all  full  of  zoophytes,  or  molluscs,  or  annelids,  — 
and  still  more,  to  see  the  eager  interest  with  which 
we  rush  to  our  "  preserves"  in  the  morning  to  see 
if  there  has  been  any  mortality  among  them  in  the 
night.  We  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  a 
charming  little  zoological  curate  here,  who  is  a 
delightful  companion  on  expeditions,  and  is  most 
good-natured  in  lending  and  giving  apparatus  and 
"  critturs"  of  all  sorts.  Mr.  Pigott^  is  coming 
here  in  his  brother's  yacht  at  the  end  of  June,  and 
we  hope  then  to  go  to  Clovelly, — Kingsley's 
Clovelly,  —  and  perhaps  other  places  on  the  coast 
that  we  can't  reach  on  foot.  After  this  we  mean 
to  migrate  to  Tenby,  for  the  sake  of  making  ac- 
quaintance with  its  molluscs  and  medusse. 

I  received  your  kind  letter  only  yesterday,  but  I 
write  a  few  words  in  answer  at  once,  lest,  as  it  so 
often  happens,  delay  should  beget  delay. 

It  is  never  too  late  to  write  generous  words,  and 
although  circumstances  are  not  likely  to  allow  of 
our  acquiring  a  more  intimate  knowledge  of  each 


other  from  personal  intercourse, 
a  pleasant  thought  to  me  that 


it  will  always  be 
you  have  remem- 
bered me  kindly,  and  interpreted  me  nobly.  You 
are  one  of  the  minority  who  know  how  to  "  use 
their  imagination  in  the  service  of  charity.  " 

I  have  suffered  so  much  from  misunderstanding 
created  by  letters,  even  to  old  friends,  that  I  never 
write  on  private  personal  matters,  unless  it  be  a 
rigorous  duty  or  necessity  to  do  so.     Some  little 

1  Mr.  Edward  Smytli  PisT'itt,  who  remnined  to  the  end  of  tlieir 
lives  a  very  close  aud  much  valued  friend  of  Mr  Lewes  and 
George  YA\ot. 


1  Sara 
nell, 

29th  June, 

1856. 


ad56.]  Life  at  Tenby.  309 

phrase  or  allusion  is  misinterpreted,  and  on  this  Letter  to 
.>Use  basis  a  great  fabric  of  misconception  is  reared,  Tayior,  sth 
which    even   explanatory    conversations    will    not  ^"^^^  ^^''' 
remove.      Life  is  too  precious  to  be  spent  in  this 
weaving  and  unweaving  of  false  impressions,  and 
it  is  better  to  live  quietly  on  under  some  degree  of 
misrepresentation  than  to  attempt  to  remove  it  by 
the  uncertain  process  of  letter-writing. 

Yes,  indeed,  I  do  remember  old  Tenby  days.  Letter  to 
and  had  set  my  heart  on  being  in  the  very  same  HeuneuT 
house  again  ;  but,  alas  !  it  had  just  been  let.  It  is  ""''"  ^■■■' 
immensely  smartened  up,  like  the  place  gener- 
ally, since  those  old  times,  and  is  proportionately 
less  desirable  for  quiet  people  who  have  no  flounces 
and  do  not  subscribe  to  new  churches.  Tenby 
looks  insignificant  in  picturesqueness  after  Ilfra- 
combe;  but  the  two  objects  that  drew  us  hither, 
zoology  and  health,  will  flourish  none  the  worse 
for  the  absence  of  tall  precipices  and  many-tinted 
rocks.  The  air  is  delicious,  —  soft  but  not  sultry, 
—  and  the  sands  and  bathing  such  as  are  to  be 
found  nowhere  else.  St.  Catherine's  Eock  with  its 
caverns  is  our  paradise.  We  go  there  with  baskets, 
hammers  and  chisels,  and  jars  and  phials,  and  come 
home  laden  with  spoils.  Altogether  we  are  con- 
tented to  have  been  driven  away  from  Ilfracombe 
by  the  cold  wind,  since  a  new  place  is  new  expe- 
rience, and  Mr,  Lewes  has  never  been  here  before. 
To  me  there  is  the  additional  pleasure  —  half 
melancholy  —  of  recalling  all  the  old  impressions 
and  comparing  them  with  the  new.  I  understand 
your  wish  to  have  as  much  of  Eosehill  as  possible 
this  year,  and  I  am  so  glad  that  you  will  associate 
a  visit  from  Herbert  Spencer  with  this  last  sum- 
mer.    I  suppose  he  is  with  you  now.     If  so,  give 


310  Life  at  Tenhy.  [tenby, 

Letter  to      him   mv   very  evil   regards,    and    tell   him   that 

Misa  Sara  «/  /  o  ' 

Henneli,  bccausc  he  has  not  written  to  us  we  will  dili- 
1856.  '  gently  not  tell  him  a  great  many  things  he  would 
have  liked  to  know.  We  have  a  project  of  going 
into  St.  Catherine's  caverns  with  lanterns,  some 
night  when  the  tide  is  low,  about  eleven,  for  the 
sake  of  seeing  the  zoophytes  preparing  for  their 
midnight  revels.  The  Actinia,  like  other  belles, 
put  on  their  best  faces  on  such  occasions.  Two 
things  we  have  lost  by  leaving  Ilfracombe,  for 
which  we  have  no  compensation,  — the  little  zo- 
ological curate,  Mr.  Tugwell,  who  is  really  one  of 
the  best  specimens  of  the  clergyman  species  I  have 
seen ;  and  the  pleasure  of  having  Miss  Barbara 
Smith  there  for  a  week  sketching  the  rocks  and 
putting  our  love  of  them  into  the  tangible  form  of 
a  picture.  We  are  looking  out  now  for  Mr.  Pigott 
in  his  brother's  yacht ;  and  his  amiable  face  will 
make  an  agreable  variety  on  the  sands.  I  thought 
"  Walden"!  (you  mean  "  Life  in  the  Woods,"  don't 
you  ?)  a  charming  book,  from  its  freshness  and 
sincerity  as  well  as  for  its  bits  of  description.  It 
is  pleasant  to  think  that  Harriet  Martineau  can 
make  so  much  of  her  last  days.  Her  energy  and 
her  habit  of  useful  work  are  admirable. 

During  the  stay  at  Ilfracombe  and  Tenby 
not  much  literary  work  was  done,  except  the 
articles  on  Young  and  on  Eiehl's  book.  There 
was  a  notice  of  Masson's  Essays  and  the  Belles 
Lettres  section  for  the  July  number  of  the 
"  Westminster, "  and  a  review  for  the  "  Leader. " 
There  is  mention,  too,  of  the  reading  of 
Beaumarchais'  "Memoirs,"  Milne  Edwards's 
"  Zoology,"  Harvey's  sea-side  book,  and  "  Corio- 
1  By  Thoreau. 


1856.]        First  Jlention  of  Fiction  Writing.  311 

lanus, "  and  then  comes  this  significant  sentence 
in  her  Journal :  — 
July  20,  1856.  —  The  fortnight  has  slipped  away  Joumai, 
without  my  being  able  to  show  much  result  from 
it.  I  have  written  a  review  of  the  "  Lover's  Seat," 
and  jotted  down  some  recollections  of  Ilfracombe : 
besides  these  trities,  and  the  introduction  to  an 
article  already  written,  I  have  done  no  visible 
work.  But  I  have  absorbed  many  ideas  and  much 
bodily  strength  ;  indeed  I  do  not  remember  ever 
feeling  so  strong  in  miud  and  body  as  I  feel  at 
this  moment.  On  Saturday  the  12th  Barbara 
Smith  arrived,  and  stayed  here  till  Wednesday 
morning.  We  enjoyed  her  society  very  much,  but 
were  deeply  touched  to  see  that  three  years  had 
made  her  so  much  older  and  sadder.  Her  activity 
for  great  objects  is  admirable ;  and  contact  with 
her  is  a  fresh  inspiration  to  work  while  it  is  day. 
We  have  now  taken  up  Quatrefages  again.  The 
"  Memoirs  "  of  Beaumarchais  yielded  me  little  fruit. 
Mr.  Chapman  invites  me  to  contribute  to  the 
"  Westminster  "  for  this  quarter.  I  am  anxious  to 
begin  my  fiction  writing,  and  so  am  not  inclined 
to  undertake  an  article  that  will  give  me  much 
trouble,  but  at  all  events,  I  will  finish  my  article 
on  Young. 

July  21.  — We  had  a  delightful  walk  on  the 
north  sands,  and  hunted  with  success.  A  sunny, 
happy  day. 

Glad  to  hear  at  last  some  news  of  your  Essay,  —  Letter  to 
hoping   to   hear   more   and   better   by-and-by.      I  uenneii, 
didn't  like  to  think    that   your  labour  would  be  i^."'"^^' 
thrown  away,  except  so  far  as  it  must  do  good  to 
yourself  by  clearing  up  your  ideas.      Not  that  your 
ideas  were  muddy,  but  the  last  degree  of  clearness 


312 


Mr.  Pigott's  Visit 


[tenby 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
29th  July, 
185(>. 


Letter  to 
Clias.  Bray, 
eth  Aug. 
1856. 


can  only  come  by  writing.  Mr.  Pigott  is  with  us 
just  now,  and  we  are  meditating  a  nocturnal  visit 
to  St.  Catherine's  caves  with  him.  Our  visit  to 
Tenby  has  been  very  useful  zoologically,  but  we 
are  not  otherwise  greatly  in  love  with  the  place. 
It  seems  tame  and  vulgar  after  Ilfracombe. 

Thank  you  for  your  kind  note,^  so  like  yourself. 
Such  things  encourage  me,  and  help  me  to  do  bet- 
ter. I  never  think  what  I  write  is  good  for  any- 
thing till  other  people  tell  me  so,  and  even  then 
it  always  seems  to  me  as  if  I  should  never  write 
anything  else  worth  reading.  Ah,  how  much  good 
we  may  do  each  other  by  a  few  friendly  words, 
and  the  opportunities  for  them  are  so  much  more 
frequent  than  for  friendly  deeds  !  We  want  people 
to  feel  with  us  more  than  to  act  for  us.  Mr. 
Lewes  sends  his  kind  regards  to  you.  He  too 
was  very  pleased  with  your  letter,  for  he  cares 
more  about  getting  approbation  for  me  than  for 
himself.     He  can  do  very  well  without  it. 

On  the  8th  August  they  left  Tenby,  and  on 
9th  arrived  at  Eichmond,  "with  terrible  head- 
ache, but  enjoyed  the  sense  of  being  '  at  home ' 
again."  On  the  18th,  "  walked  in  Kew  Park, 
and  talked  with  G.  of  my  novel.  Finished 
'  Cdsar  Birotteau  '  aloud."  On  the  25th  August 
Mr.  Lewes  set  off  for  Hofwyl,  near  Berne,  tak- 
ing his  two  eldest  boys,  Charles  and  Thorn- 
ton, to  place  them  at  school  there.  He  returned 
on  4th  September,  and  in  his  absence  George 
Eliot  had  been  busy  with  her  article  on  "  Silly 
Novels  by  Lady  Novelists."  This  was  finished 
on  the  12th  September,  and  on  the   19th  she 

^  About  the  article  on  Eiehl's  book, "  The  Natural  History  of 
German  Life." 


iS56.]  First  Novel.  313 

sent  off  the  Belles  Lettres  section  for  the  October 

number  of  the  "  Westminster.  " 

We  have  now  arrived  at  the  period   of   the 

new   birth,  and  fortunately,    in  the  following 

memorandum,    we   have    George   Eliot's    own 

words  as  to  how  it  came  about :  — 
September,  1856,  made  a  new  era  in  my  life,  for  it  how  i  came 
was  then  I  began  to  write  fiction.  It  had  always  fiction, 
been  a  vague  dream  of  mine  that  some  time  or 
other  I  might  write  a  novel;  and  my  shadowy 
conception  of  what  the  novel  was  to  be,  varied,  of 
course,  from  one  epoch  of  my  life  to  another.  But 
I  never  went  further  towards  the  actual  writing  of 
the  novel  than  an  introductory  chapter  describing 
a  Staffordshire  village  and  the  life  of  the  neigh- 
bouring farm-houses ;  and  as  the  years  passed  on,  I 
lost  any  hope  that  I  should  ever  be  able  to  write 
a  novel,  just  as  I  desponded  about  everything  else 
in  my  future  life.  I  always  thought  I  was  defi- 
cient in  dramatic  power,  both  of  construction  and 
dialogue,  but  I  felt  I  should  be  at  my  ease  in  the 
descriptive  parts  of  a  novel.  My  "  introductory 
chapter"  was  pure  description,  though  there  were 
good  materials  in  it  for  dramatic  presentation.  It 
happened  to  be  among  the  papers  I  had  with  me  in 
Germany,  and  one  evening  at  Berlin  something 
led  me  to  read  it  to  George.  He  was  struck  with 
it  as  a  bit  of  concrete  description,  and  it  suggested 
to  him  the  possibility  of  my  being  able  to  write  a 
novel,  though  he  distrusted  —  indeed  disbelieved 
in  —  my  possession  of  any  dramatic  power.  Still, 
he  began  to  think  that  I  might  as  well  try  some 
time  what  I  could  do  in  fiction ;  and  by-and-by, 
when  we  came  back  to  England,  and  I  had  greater 
success  than  he  ever   expected    in  other  kinds  of 


814  Title  of  First  Story.  '       [richmokd, 

Bow  I  came  Writing,  liis  impression  that  it  was  worth  while  to 
fiction!^  see  how  far  my  mental  power  would  go,  towards 
the  production  of  a  novel,  was  strengthened.  He 
began  to  say  very  positively,  "  You  must  try  and 
write  a  story,"  and  when  we  were  at  Tenby  he 
urged  me  to  begin  at  once.  I  deferred  it,  however, 
after  my  usual  fashion,  with  work  that  does  not 
present  itself  as  an  absolute  duty.  But  one  morn- 
ing as  I  was  thinking  what  should  be  the  subject 
of  my  first  story,  my  thoughts  merged  themselves 
into  a  dreamy  doze,  and  I  imagined  myself  writing 
a  story,  of  which  the  title  was  "  The  Sad  Fortunes 
of  the  Eeverend  Amos  Barton. "  I  was  soon  wide 
awake  again,  and  told  G.  He  said,  "  Oh,  what  a 
capital  title !  "  and  from  that  time  I  had  settled 
in  my  mind  that  this  should  be  my  first  story. 
George  used  to  say,  "  It  may  be  a  failure, —  it  may 
be  that  you  are  unable  to  write  fiction.  Or  per- 
haps it  may  be  just  good  enough  to  warrant  you 
trying  again. "  Again,  "  You  may  write  a  chef- 
d'oeuvre  at  once,  —  there  's  no  telling.  "  But  his 
prevalent  impression  was  that  though  I  could 
hardly  write  a  poor  novel,  my  effort  would  want 
the  highest  quality  of  fiction, —  dramatic  presenta- 
tion. He  used  to  say,  "  You  have  wit,  descrip- 
tion, and  philosophy,  —  those  go  a  good  way 
towards  the  production  of  a  novel.  It  is  worth 
while  for  you  to  try  the  experiment. " 

We  determined  that  if  my  story  turned  out  good 
enough,  we  would  send  it  to  Blackwood ;  but  G. 
thought  the  more  probable  result  was  that  I  should 
have  to  lay  it  aside  and  try  again. 

But  when  we  returned  to  Richmond,  I  had  to 
write  my  article  on  "  Silly  Novels,"  and  my  review 
of  Contemporary  Literature  for  the  "  Westminster," 


1856.]  Mr.  Lewes's  Encouragement.  315 

so  that  I  did  not  begin  my  story  till  September  22.  How  i  came 
After  I  had  begun  it,  as  we  were  walking  in  the  ficu^n.^ 
park,  I  mentioned  to  G.  that  I  had  thought  of  the 
plan  of  writing  a  series  of  stories,  containing 
sketches  drawn  from  my  own  observation  of  the 
clergy,  and  calling  them  "  Scenes  from  Clerical 
Life, "  opening  with  "  Amos  Barton.  "  He  at  once 
accepted  the  notion  as  a  good  one,  —  fresh  and 
striking ;  and  about  a  week  afterwards,  when  I 
read  him  the  first  part  of  "Amos,"  he  had  no 
longer  any  doubt  about  my  ability  to  carry  out  the 
plan.  The  scene  at  Cross  Farm,  he  said,  satisfied 
him  that  I  had  the  very  element  he  had  been 
doubtful  about,  —  it  was  clear  I  could  write  good 
dialogue.  There  still  remained  the  question 
whether  I  could  command  any  pathos ;  and  that 
was  to  be  decided  by  the  mode  in  which  I  treated 
Milly's  death.  One  night  G.  went  to  town  on 
purpose  to  leave  me  a  quiet  evening  for  writing  it. 
I  wrote  the  chapter  from  the  news  brought  by  the 
shepherd  to  Mrs.  Hackit,  to  the  moment  when 
Amos  is  dragged  from  the  bedside,  and  I  read  it 
to  G.  when  he  came  home.  We  both  cried  over  it, 
and  then  he  came  up  to  me  and  kissed  me,  saying, 
"  I  think  your  pathos  is  better  than  your  fun.  " 

The  story  of  the  "  Sad  Fortunes  of  Amos 
Barton"  was  begun  on  22d  September  and 
finished  on  the  5th  November,  and  I  subjoin 
the  opening  correspondence  between  Mr.  Lewes 
and  Mr.  John  Blackwood,  to  exhibit  the  first 
effect  it  produced :  — 

"  I  trouble  you  with  a  MS.   of  '  Sketches  of  Letter  from 

^^^        '        t     -r  •  P       ,         ^    •    ^  ^         •  i  ,         Gr.  H.  Lewes, 

Clerical  Lite,    which  was  submitted  to  me  by  toJoim 
a  friend  who  desired  my  good  offices  with  you.  ethNor.   ' 

^     ^  "^1856. 


316      Correspondence  with  Blackwood,      [riciimonb 


Letter  from 
G.  H.  Lewes 
to  John 
Blackwood, 
6th  Nov. 
1866. 


It  goes  by  this  post.  I  confess  that  before 
reading  the  MS.  I  had  considerable  doubts  of 
my  friend's  powers  as  a  writer  of  fiction;  but 
after  reading  it,  these  doubts  were  changed 
into  very  high  admiration.  I  don't  know  what 
you  will  think  of  the  story,  but  according  to 
my  judgment,  such  humour,  pathos,  vivid  pre- 
sentation, and  nice  observation,  have  not  been 
exhibited  (in  this  style)  since  the  '  Vicar  of 
Wakefield ; '  and  in  consequence  of  that  opin- 
ion, I  feel  quite  pleased  in  negotiating  the 
matter  with  you. 

"  This  is  what  I  am  commissioned  to  say 
to  you  about  the  proposed  series.  It  will  con- 
sist of  tales  and  sketches  illustrative  of  the 
actual  life  of  our  country  clergy  about  a  quarter 
of  a  century  ago,  —  but  solely  in  its  human, 
and  not  at  all  in  its  theological  aspects ;  the 
object  being  to  do  what  has  never  yet  been 
done  in  our  literature,  for  we  have  had  abun- 
dant religious  stories,  polemical  and  doctrinal, 
but  since  the  '  Vicar  '  and  Miss  Austen,  no 
stories  representing  the  clergy  like  every  other 
class,  with  the  humours,  sorrows,  and  troubles 
of  other  men.  He  begged  me  particularly  to 
add  that  —  as  the  specimen  sent  will  sufficiently 
prove  —  the  tone  throughout  will  be  sympa- 
thetic, and  not  at  all  antagonistic. 

"  Some  of  these,  if  not  all,  you  may  think 
suitable  for  'Maga. '  If  any  are  sent  of  which 
you  do  not  approve,  or  which  you  do  not  think 
sufficiently  interesting,  these  he  will  reserve 
for  the  separate  republication,  and  for  this  pur- 
pose he  wishes  to  retain  the  copyright.  Should 
you  only  print  one  or  two,   he  will   be   well 


1856.]        Correspondence  with  Blackwood.  317 

satisfied ;  aud  still  better,  if  you  should  think 
well  enough  of  the  series  to  undertake  the 
separate  republication. " 

"  I  am  happy  to  say  that  I  think  your  friend's  Letter  from 
reminiscences  of  Clerical  Life  will  do.  If  wo'^fo^'^^' 
there  is  any  more  of  the  series  written  I  should  mh'N^vT^^ 
like  to  see  it,  as,  until  I  saw  more,  I  could  not  ^^^* 
make  any  decided  proposition  for  the  publica- 
tion of  the  Tales,  in  whole  or  in  part,  in  the 
'Magazine. '  This  first  specimen,  'Amos  Bar- 
ton, '  is  unquestionably  very  pleasant  reading. 
Perhaps  the  author  falls  into  the  error  of  trying 
too  much  to  explain  the  characters  of  his  actors 
by  description  instead  of  allowing  them  to 
evolve  in  the  action  of  the  story ;  but  the  de- 
scriptions are  very  humorous  and  good.  The 
death  of  Milly  is  powerfully  done,  and  affected 
me  much.  I  am  not  sure  whether  he  does  not 
spoil  it  a  little  by  specifying  so  minutely  the 
different  children  and  their  names.  The  wind- 
up  is  perhaps  the  lamest  part  of  the  story ;  and 
there,  too,  I  think  the  defect  is  caused  by  the 
specifications  as  to  the  fortunes  of  parties  of 
whom  the  reader  has  no  previous  knowledge, 
and  cannot,  consequently,  feel  much  interest. 
At  first  I  was  afraid  that  in  the  amusing  rem- 
iniscences of  childhood  in  church  there  was  a 
want  of  some  softening  touch,  such  as  the 
remembrance  of  a  father  or  mother  lends,  in 
after  years,  to  what  was  at  the  time  consider- 
able penance. 

"  T  hate  anvthing  of  a  sneer  at  real  religious 
feeling  as  cordially  as  I  despise  anything  like 
cant,  and  I  should  think  this  author  is  of  the 
same  way  of  thinking,  although  his  clergymen, 


318  Mr.   Blackwood's  and  Lewes' s      [Richmond, 


Letter  from 
John  Black- 
wood to 
G.  H.  Lewes, 
I'^th  Nov. 
l»5t). 


Letter  from 
G.  H.  Lewes 
to  John 
Blackwood, 
Saturday, 
Nov.  1856. 


with  one  exception,  are  not  very  attractive 
specimens  of  the  body.  The  revulsion  of  feel- 
ing towards  poor  Amos  is  capitally  drawn, 
although  the  asinine  stupidity  of  his  conduct 
about  the  Countess  had  disposed  one  to  kick 
him. 

"  I  daresay  I  shall  have  a  more  decided  opin- 
ion as  to  the  merits  of  the  story  when  I  have 
looked  at  it  again  and  thought  over  it ;  but  in 
the  meantime  I  am  sure  that  there  is  a  happy 


turn    of    expression 
humour  and  pathos. 


throughout,  also  much 
If  the  author  is  a  new 
writer,  I  beg  to  congratulate  him  on  being 
worthy  of  the  honours  of  print  and  pay.  I 
shall  be  very  glad  to  hear  from  you  or  him 
soon. " 

"  I  have  communicated  your  letter  to  my 
clerical  friend,  who,  though  somewhat  dis- 
couraged by  it,  has  taken  my  advice,  and  will 
submit  the  second  story  to  you  when  it  is  writ- 
ten. At  present  he  has  only  written  what  he 
sent  you.  His  avocations,  he  informs  me,  will 
prevent  his  setting  to  work  for  the  next  three 
weeks  or  so,  but  as  soon  as  he  is  at  liberty  he 
will  begin. 

"  I  rate  the  story  much  higher  than  you 
appear  to  do,  from  certain  expressions  in  your 
note,  though  you  too  appreciate  the  humour 
and  pathos  and  the  happy  turn  of  expression. 
It  struck  me  as  being  fresher  than  any  story  I 
have  read  for  a  long  while,  and  as  exhibiting, 
in  a  high  degree,  that  faculty  which  I  find  to 
be  the  rarest  of  all,  —  viz. ,  the  dramatic 
ventriloquism. 

"  At  the  same  time  I  told  him  that  I  thor- 


1856.]  Opinion  of  "Amos  Barton."  319 

oughly  understood  your  editorial  caution  in  not 
accepting  from  an  unknown  hand  a  series  on 
the  strength  of  one  specimen. " 

"  I    was    very  far   from    intending   that   my  Letter  from 
letter  should  convey  anything  like  disappoint-  wo^to^"^" 
ment   to     your   friend.       On    the    contrary,    I  fsth'^ovT^^' 
thought    the  tale    very  good,   and    intended  to  '^^*^' 
convey  as    much.      But  I  daresay  I  expressed 
myself  coolly  enough.     Criticism  would  assume 
a  much    soberer    tone    were   critics    compelled 
seriously  to    act    whenever   they   expressed   an 
opinion.      Although  not  much  given  to  hesitate 
about  anything,  I  always  think  twice  before  I 
put  the  decisive  mark  'In  type  for  the  Magazine' 
on  any  MS.  from  a  stranger.    Paucy  the  intense 
annoyance  (to  say  nothing  of  more  serious  con- 
siderations) of   publishing,    month  after  month, 
a  series  about  which   the  conviction  gradually 
forces  itself  on   you  that  you  have  made  a  total 
blunder. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  the  author  has  no  more 
written,  but  if  he  cares  much  about  a  speedy 
appearance,  I  have  so  high  an  opinion  of  this 
first  tale  that  I  will  waive  my  objections, 
and  publish  it  without  seeing  more,  —  not,  of 
course,  committing  myself  to  go  on  with  the 
other  tales  of  the  series  unless  I  approved  of 
them.  I  am  very  sanguine  that  I  will  approve, 
as,  in  addition  to  the  other  merits  of  'Amos, '  I 
agree  with  you  that  there  is  great  freshness  of 
style.  If  you  think  also  that  it  would  stimu- 
late the  author  to  go  on  with  the  other  tales 
with  more  spirit,  I  will  publish  '  Amos  '  at 
once.  He  could  divide  into  two  parts.  I  am 
blocked  up  for  December,  but  I  could  start  him 
in  January. 


520 


Sensitiveness  of  the  Author.      [Richmond, 


Letter  from 
Johu  Black- 
wood to 
G.  H.  Lewes, 
18th  Nov. 
1856, 


Letter  from 
G.  H.  Lewes, 
to  Johu 
Blackwood, 
Saturday, 
Nov.  1856. 


"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  your  friend  is,  as  I 
supposed,  a  clergyman.  Such  a  subject  is  best 
in  clerical  hands,  and  some  of  the  pleasantest 
and  least  prejudiced  correspondents  I  have  ever 
had  are  English  clergymen. 

"  I  have  not  read  '  Amos  Barton  '  a  second 
time,  but  the  impression  on  my  mind  of  the 
whole  character,  incidents,  and  feeling  of  the 
story  is  very  distinct,  which  is  an  excellent 
sign. " 

"  Your  letter  has  greatly  restored  the  shaken 
confidence  of  my  friend,  who  is  unusually  sen- 
sitive, and,  unlike  most  writers,  is  more  anx- 
ious about  excellence  than  about  appearing  in 
print,  —  as  his  waiting  so  long  before  taking 
the  venture  proves.  He  is  consequently  afraid 
of  failure,  though  not  afraid  of  obscurity ;  and 
by  failure  he  would  understand  that  which  I 
suspect  most  writers  would  be  apt  to  consider 
as  success,  —  so  high  is  his  ambition. 

"  I  tell  you  this  that  you  may  understand  the 
sort  of  shy,  shrinking,  ambitious  nature  you 
have  to  deal  with.  I  tried  to  persuade  him 
that  you  really  did  appreciate  his  story,  but 
were  only  hesitating  about  committing  yourself 
to  a  series ;  and  your  last  letter  has  proved  me 
to  have  been  right,  —  although,  as  he  never 
contemplated  binding  you  to  the  publication  of 
any  portion  of  the  series  to  which  you  might 
object,  he  could  not  at  first  see  your  posit io?i 
in  its  true  light. 

"  All   is,  however,  clear  now.     He  will   \j.? 
gratified  if  you  publish  '  Amos  Barton'  in  Jan 
uary,  as  it  will  give  him  ample  time  to  ^et  tha 
second  story  ready,  so  as  to  appear  when  '  Bar 


1856.]  "Amos  Barton"  FuUished.  321 

ton  '   is  finished,    should  yon  wish  it.     He  is  Letter  from 
anxious,  however,  that  you  should  publish  the  to  Joiar'"^' 
general  title  of  '  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life ;  '  and  Saturday",  ' 
I  think  you  may  do  this  with  perfect  safety,  ^°^'  ^^^' 
since  it  is  quite  clear  that  the  writer  of  '  Amos 
Barton  '  is  capable  of  writing  at  least  one  more 
story  suitable  to  '  Maga, '  and  two  would  suffice 
to  justify  the  general  title. 

"  Let  me  not  forget  to  add  that  when  I 
referred  to  'my  clerical  friend,'  I  meant  to 
designate  the  writer  of  the  clerical  stories,  — 
not  that  he  was  a  clericus.  I  am  not  at  liberty 
to  remove  the  veil  of  anonymity,  even  as  regards 
social  position.  Be  pleased,  therefore,  to  keep 
the  whole  secret,  and  not  even  mention  my 
negotiation,  or  in  any  way  lead  guessers  (should 
any  one  trouble  himself  with  such  a  guess,  — 
not  very  likely)  to  jump  from  me  to  my  friend." 

On  Christmas  Day,  1856,  "  Mr.  Gilfil's  Love 
Story  "  was  begun,  and  during  December  and 
January  the  following  are  mentioned  among  the 
books  read :  "  The  Ajax  of  Sophocles, "  Miss 
Martineau's  "History  of  the  Peace,"  Macau- 
lay's  "  History  "  finished,  Carlyle's  "  French 
Revolution,"  Burke's  "' Reflections  on  the 
French  Revolution,"  and  "  Mansfield  Park. " 

"  Along  with  this  I  send  a  copy  of  the  Jan-  Letter  from 
nary  number  of  the  Magazine,    in  which   you  wood  to  The' 
will  find  the  first  part  of  '  Amos  Barton. '     It  "  Amos'sar- 
gives  me  very  great  pleasure  to  begin  the  num-  Drc'.'ilsa 
ber  with  '  Amos, '  and  I  put  him  in  that  position 
because  his  merits  well  entitle  him  to  it,  and 
also  because  it  is  a  vital  point  to  attract  public 

VOL.    I. — 21 


322  Major  Blackwood'' s  Judgment.      [Richmond, 


Letter  from 
John  Black- 
wood to  the 
author  of 
"Amos  Bar- 
ton," 2'Jth 
Dec.  1856. 


attention  to  the  first  part  of  a  series,  to  which 
end  being  the  first  article  of  the  first  number  of 
the  year  may  contribute. 

"  I  have  already  expressed  to  our  friend  Mr. 
Lewes  the  very  high  opinion  I  entertain  of 
'Amos, '  and  the  expectations  I  have  formed  of 
the  series,  should  his  successors  prove  equal  to 
him,  which  I  fully  anticipate. 

"  It  is  a  long  time  since  I  have  read  anything 
so  fresh,  so  humorous,  and  so  touching.  The 
style  is  capital,  conveying  so  much  in  so  few 
words. 

"  Those  who  have  seen  the  tale  here  are  chiefly 
members  of  my  own  family,  and  they  are  all 
enthusiastic  in  praise. 

"  You  may  recollect  that  I  expressed  a  fear 
that  in  the  affecting  and  highly  wrought  scene 
of  poor  Milly's  death,  the  attempt  to  individu- 
alise the  children  by  reiterating  their  names 
weakened  the  effect,  as  the  reader  had  not  been 
prepared  to  care  for  them  individually,  but 
simply  as  a  group,  —  the  children  of  Milly  and 
the  sorrow-stricken  curate.  My  brother  says, 
'  No.  Do  not  advise  the  author  to  touch  any- 
thing so  exquisite. '  Of  course  you  are  the  best 
judge. 

"  I  now  send  proof  of  the  conclusion  of 
'Amos,'  in  acknowledgment  of  which,  and  of 
the  first  part,  I  have  the  pleasure  of  enclosing 
a  cheque  for  £52  10s.,  —  fifty  guineas. 

"  If  the  series  goes  on  as  I  anticipate,  there 
is  every  prospect  that  a  republication  as  a  sepa- 
rate book  at  some  time  or  other  will  be  advis- 
able. We  would  look  upon  such  republication 
as  a  joint  property,  and  would  either  give  you  a 


1857.]       The  Author  of  "Amos  Barton."  323 

sum  for  your  interest  in  it,  or  publish  on  the  Letter  from 
terms  of  one  half  of  the  clear  profits,  to  be  wwdtoThe" 
divided  between  author  and  publisher,  as  might  ?"lmo8°BaB 
be  most  agreeable  to  you.  Dec.'isse! 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  hear  from  you,  either 
direct  or  through  Mr.  Lewes ;  and  any  intelli- 
gence that  the  successors  of  '  Amos  '  are  taking 
form  and  substance  will  be  very  acceptable. 

"  I  shall  let  you  know  what  the  other  contri- 
butors and  the  public  think  of  '  Amos  '  as  far 
as  I  can  gather  a  verdict,  but  in  the  meantime 
I  may  congratulate  you  on  having  achieved  a 
preliminary  success  at  all  events.  " 
Your  letter  has  proved  to  me  that  the  generous  Letter  from 
Editor  and  publisher,  — generous  both  in  word  and  of''"'AmoI 
in  deed,  —  who  makes  the  author's  path   smooth  fo^hn^sLk. 
and  easy,  is  something  more  than  a  pleasant  tradi-  fgg^^'  "^^ 
tion.      I  am  very  sensitive  to  the  merits  of  cheques 
for  fifty  guineas,  but  I  am  still  more  sensitive  to 
that  cordial  appreciation  which  is  a  guarantee  to 
me   that  my  work  was  worth   doing  for  its  own 
sake. 

If  the  "  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  "  should  be  repub- 
lished, I  have  no  doubt  we  shall  find  it  easy  to 
arrange  the  terms.  In  the  meantime  the  most 
pressing  business  is  to  make  them  worth  repub- 
lishing. 

I  think  the  particularisation  of  the  children  in 
the  deathbed  scene  has  an  important  effect  on  the 
imagination.  But  I  have  removed  all  names  from 
the  "  conclusion  "  except  those  of  Patty  and  Dickey, 
in  whom,  I  hope,  the  reader  has  a  personal  in- 
terest. 

I  hope  to  send  you  the  second  story  by  the  begin- 
ning of  February.     It  will  lie,  for  the  most  part, 


324 


Albert  Smith's  Opinion.        [richmond, 


the  author 
of  "  Amos 
Barton ''  to 
John  Black- 
wood, Jan. 
1857. 


Journal, 

1857. 


Letter  from  ainong  quite  different  scenes  and  persons  from  the 
last,  —  opening  in  Shepperton  once  more,  but  pres- 
ently moving  away  to  a  distant  spot  and  new 
people,  whom.  I  hope,  you  will  not  like  less  than 
"  Amos  "  and  his  friends.  But  if  any  one  of  the 
succeeding  stories  should  seem  to  you  unsuitable 
to  the  pages  of  "  Maga, "  it  can  be  reserved  for  pub- 
lication in  the  future  volume,  without  creating 
any  difficulty. 

Thank  you  very  warmly  for  the   hearty  accep- 
tance you  have  given  to  my  first  story. 

The  first  part  of  "  Amos  Barton  "  appeared  in  the 
January  number  of  "  Blackwood. "  Before  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  "Magazine,"  on  sending  me  the 
proof,  Mr.  John  Blackwood  already  expressed  him- 
self with  much  greater  warmth  of  admiration ; 
and  when  the  first  part  had  appeared,  he  sent  me 
a  charming  letter  with  a  cheque  for  fifty  guineas, 
and  a  proposal  about  republication  of  the  series. 
When  the  story  was  concluded,  he  wrote  me  word 
how  Albert  Smith  had  sent  him  a  letter  saying 
he  had  never  read  anything  that  affected  him 
more  than  Milly's  death,  and,  added  Blackwood, 
"  The  men  at  the  club  seem  to  have  mingled  their 
tears  and  their  tumblers  together.  It  will  be  curi- 
ous if  you  should  be  a  member  and  be  hearing  your 
own  praises. "  There  was  clearly  no  suspicion  that 
I  was  a  woman.  It  is  interesting  as  an  indication 
of  the  value  there  is  in  such  conjectural  criticism 
generally,  to  remember  that  when  G.  read  the  first 
part  of  "  Amos  "  to  a  party  at  Helps 's,  they  were 
all  sure  I  was  a  clergyman,  —  a  Cambridge  man. 
Blackwood  seemed  curious  about  the  author,  and 
when  I  signed  my  letter  "George  Eliot,"  hunted 
up  some  old  letters  from  Eliot  Warburton's  brother 


1837.]  Letter  to  Blackwood.  325 

to  compare  the  handwritings,  though,  he  said, 
"  '  Amos  '  seems  to  me  not  in  the  least  like  what 
that  good  artilleryman  would  write. " 

Thank  you  for  fulfilling  your  promise  to  let  me  Letter  to 

.  -^    ,.    .  P    ,,  ■!•     •  A  JohnBlacfc 

know  something  or  the  criticisms   passed  on   my  wood,  4th 
story.      I  have  a  very  moderate  respect  for  "  opin- 
ions   of   the    press,"  but    the  private  opinions    of 
intelligent  people  may  be  valuable  to  me. 

In  reference  to  artistic  presentation,  much  ad- 
verse opinion  will,  of  course,  arise  from  a  dislike 
to  the  order  of  art  rather  than  from  a  critical  esti- 
mate of  the  execution.  Any  one  who  detests  the 
Dutch  school  in  general  will  hardly  appreciate 
fairly  the  merits  of  a  particular  Dutch  painting. 
And  against  this  sort  of  condemnation  one  must 
steel  one's  self  as  one  best  can.  But  objections 
which  point  out  to  me  any  vice  of  manner,  or  any 
failure  in  producing  an  intended  effect,  will  be 
really  profitable.  For  example,  I  suppose  my 
scientific  illustrations  must  be  a  fault,  since  they 
seem  to  have  obtruded  themselves  disagreeably  on 
one  of  my  readers.  But  if  it  be  a  sin  to  be  at  once 
a  man  of  science  and  a  writer  of  fiction,  I  can 
declare  my  perfect  innocence  on  that  head,  my 
scientific  knowledge  being  as  superficial  as  that  of 
the  most  "  practised  writers.  "  I  hope  to  send  you 
a  second  story  in  a  few  days,  but  I  am  rather  be- 
hindhand this  time,  having  been  prevented  from 
setting  to  work  for  some  weeks  by  other  business. 

Whatever  may  be  the  success  of  my  stories,  I 
shall  be  resolute  in  preserving  my  incognito,  — 
having  observed  that  a  nom  de  plume  secures  all 
the  advantages  without  the  disagreeables  of  repu- 
tation. Perhaps,  therefore,  it  will  be  well  to  give 
you  my  prospective  name,  as  a  tub  to  throw  to  the 


326  Pseudonym  Assumed.         [bichmond. 

whale  in  case  of  curious  inquiries  ;  and  accordingly 
I  subscribe  myself,  best  and  most  sympathising  of 
Editors,  yours  very  truly,  George  Eliot. 

I  may  mention  here  that  my  wife  told  me 
the   reason  she  fixed  on    this  name  was   that 
George  was  Mr.   Lewes 's  Christian  name,  and 
Eliot    was   a  good    mouth-filling,    easily    pro- 
nounced word. 
Letter  to      First  let  me  thank  you  very  heartily  for  your  letter 
w°ood,  ist'ii'  of  the  10th.     Except  your  own  very  cordial  appre- 
Feb.  1S57.     ciation  which    is  so  much  beyond  a  mere  otiicial 
acceptance,  that  little  fact  about  Albert  Smith  has 
gratified  me  more  than  anything  else  in  connection 
with  the  effect  of  "Amos."     If  you  should  happen 
to  hear  an  opinion  from  Thackeray,  good  or  bad,  I 
should  like  to  know  it. 

You  will  see  that  I  have  availed  myself  of  your 
suggestions  on  points  of  language.  I  quite  recog- 
nise the  justice  of  your  criticisms  on  the  French 
phrases.     They  are  not  in  keeping  with  my  story. 

But  I  am  unable  to  alter  anything  in  relation  to 
the  delineation  or  development  of  character,  as  my 
stories  always  grow  out  of  my  psychological  con- 
ception of  the  dramatis  personce.  For  example, 
the  behaviour  of  Caterina  in  the  gallery  is  essen- 
tial to  my  conception  of  her  nature,  and  to  the 
development  of  that  nature  in  the  plot.  My  artis- 
tic bent  is  directed  not  at  all  to  the  presentation 
of  eminently  irreproachable  characters,  but  to  the 
presentation  of  mixed  human  beings  in  such  a  way 
as  to  call  forth  tolerant  judgment,  pity,  and  sym- 
pathy. And  I  cannot  stir  a  step  aside  from  what 
\feel  to  be  true  in  character.  If  anything  strikes 
you  as  untrue  to  human  nature  in  my  delinea- 
tions, I  shall  be  very  glad  if  you  will  point  it  out 


1857.]  Admiration  of  Goldsmith.  327 

to  me,  that  I  may  reconsider  the  matter.     But,  alas ! 

inconsistencies  and  weaknesses  are  not  untrue.     I 

hope  that  your  doubts  about  the  plot  will  be  removed 

by  the  further  development  of  the  story.  Meanwhile, 

warmest  thanks  for  your  encouraging  letters. 

I  am  the  more  inclined  to   think  that  I  shall  Letter  to 

admire  your  book,  because   you  are    suspected   of  Hemien7 

having  given  undue  preponderance  to  the  Christian  isstT'^''' 

argument ;  for  I  have  a  growing  conviction  that  we 

may  measure  true  moral   and  intellectual  culture 

by  the  comprehension  and  veneration  given  to  all 

forms  of  thought  and  feeling  which  have  influenced 

large  masses  of  mankind,  —  and  of  all  intolerance 

the  intolerance  calling  itself  philosophical  is  the 

most  odious  to  me. 

Thank  you  for  the  copy  of  "  Maga  "  and  for  the  Letter  to 
1  r\       1  ,  John  Black- 

accompanying  cheque.      One  has  not  many  corre-  wood,  ist 

spondents  whose  handwriting   has  such  agreeable  ^*^'=^'^^'^' 
associations  as  yours. 

I  was  particularly  pleased  with  that  extract  you 
were  so  good  as  to  send  me  from  Mr.  Swayne's 
letter.  Dear  old  "  Goldie  "  is  one  of  my  earliest 
and  warmest  admirations,  and  I  don't  desire  a 
better  fate  than  to  lie  side  by  side  with  him  in 
people's  memories.  ' 

The  Eev.  Mr.  Swayne  had  written  to  Black- 
wood saying  that  "  Amos, "  in  its  charming 
tenderness,  reminded  him  of  the  "  Vicar  of 
Wakefield.  "  Blackwood  had  written  much  de- 
lighted with  the  two  first  parts  of  "  Mr.  Gilfil's 
Love  Story, "  which  were  sent  to  him  together. 
I  began,  oddly  enough  you  will  perhaps  think,  by  Letter  to 
reading  through    the    "  Answers    of    Infidelity, "  ^  Hemiefr 

2cl  March, 
1  Baillie  Prize  Essay  on  Christianity  and  Infifielity :  an  Exposi-  ^^'^• 
tion  of  the  Arguments  on  both  Sides.     By  Miss  Sara  Hennell. 


328 


Miss  Hennell's  Essay.  [Richmond, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
2d  March, 
1857. 


those  being  the  most  interesting  parts  of  the  book 
to  me.  Some  of  your  own  passages  I  think  very 
admirable,  —  some  of  them  made  me  cry,  which 
is  always  a  sign  of  the  highest  pleasure  writing 
can  give  me.  But  in  many  of  the  extracts,  I 
think,  Infidelity  cuts  a  very  poor  figure.  Some  are 
feeble,  some  lad,  and  terribly  discrepant  in  the 
tone  of  their  thought  and  feeling  from  the  passages 
which  come  fresh  from  your  own  mind.  The  dis- 
advantage arising  from  the  perpetual  shifting  of 
the  point  of  view  is  a  disadvantage,  I  suppose, 
inseparable  from  the  plan,  which  I  cannot  admire 
or  feel  to  be  effective,  though  I  can  imagine  it  may 
be  a  serviceable  form  of  presentation  to  some  in- 
quirers. The  execution  I  do  admire.  I  think  it 
shows  very  high  and  rare  qualities  of  mind,  —  a 
self-discipline  and  largeness  of  thought,  which  are 
the  highest  result  of  culture.  The  "  Objections 
of  Christianity, "  which  I  have  also  read,  are  excel- 
lently put,  and  have  an  immense  advantage  over 
the  "  Answers  of  Infidelity  "  in  their  greater  homo- 
geneity. The  first  part  I  have  only  begun  and 
glanced  through,  and  at  present  have  no  other 
observation  to  make  than  that  I  think  you  might 
have  brought  a  little  more  artillery  to  bear  on 
Christian  morality.  But  nothing  is  easier  than  to 
find  fault,  —  nothing  so  difficult  as  to  do  some 
real  work. 

I  think  I  wrote  very  brusquely  and  disagreeably 
to  you  the  other  day,  but  the  impertinence  was 
1^7^'"'"^'*'  altogether  in  the  form  and  not  at  all  in  the  feel- 
ing. I  always  have  uncomfortable  sensations  after 
writing  objections  and  criticisms  when  they  relate 
to  things  I  substantially  admire.  It  is  inflicting 
a  hurt  on  my  own  veneration. 


Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 
Henuell, 


1857.]  Caierina's  Character.  329 

I  showed  the   passage  on   the  eye,    p.    157,    to  Letterto 
Herbert  Spencer,  and  he  agrees  with  us  that  you  Henneii, 
have  not  stated  your  idea  so  as  to  render  it  a  logi-  is^t.  ^ 
cal  argument  against  design.      You  appear  to  imply 
that   development    and    gradation   in   organs   and 
functions  are  opposed  to  that  conception,   which 
they  are  not.     I  suppose  you  are  aware  that  we  all 
three  hold  the  conception  of  creative  design  to  be 
untenable.      We  only  think  you  have  not  made  out 
a  good  case  against  it. 

Thank  you  for  sending  me  some  news  of  Harriet 
Martineau.  I  have  often  said  lately  "  I  wonder 
how  she  is. " 

I  am  glad  you  retain  a  doubt  in  favour  of  the  Letterto 
dagger,   and  wish  i  could  convert   you   to   entire  wood,  i4th 

TPT  1  i-r-ii  March,  1857 

approval,  tor  1  am  much  more  satisned  when  your 
feeling  is  thoroughly  with  me.  But  it  would  be 
the  death  of  my  story  to  substitute  a  dream  for  the 
real  scene.  Dreams  usually  play  an  important 
part  in  fiction,  but  rarely,  I  think,  in  actual  life. 

So  many  of  us  have  reason  to  know  that  criminal 
impulses  may  be  felt  by  a  nature  which  is  never- 
theless guarded  by  its  entire  constitution  from  the 
commission  of  crime,  that  I  can't  help  hoping  that 
my  Caterina  will  not  forfeit  the  sympathy  of  all 
my  readers. 

The  answer  you  propose  to  give  to  curious  in- 
quirers is  the  best  possible.  For  several  reasons  I 
am  very  anxious  to  retain  my  incognito  for  some 
time  to  come,  and  to  an  author  not  already  famous, 
anonymity  is  the  highest  prestige.  Besides,  if 
George  Eliot  turns  out  a  dull  dog  and  an  ineffective 
writer,  — a  mere  flash  in  the  pan,  — I,  for  one,  am 
determined  to  cut  him  on  the  first  intimation  of 
that  disagreeable  fact. 


330  Descri^ption  of  St.  Mary's,     [scilly  isles. 

The  fates  have  willed  that  this  shall  be  a  very 
melancholy  story,  and  I  am  longing  to  be  a  little 
merrier  again. 

On  the  16th  March,  Mr.   Lewes  and  George 
Eliot  started  for  Plvmouth,  Penzance,  and  the 
Scilly  Isles,  and  w^e  have  the  following  recol- 
lections of  their  stay  there  : — 
EecoUec-      I  had  ncvcr  before  seen  a  granite  coast,  and  on  the 
Isles'  southern  side  of  the  island  of  St.  Mary's  one  sees 

1S67.  such  a  coast  in  its  most  striking  and  characteristic 

forms.  Eectangular  crevices,  the  edges  of  which 
have  been  rounded  by  weather,  give  many  of  the 
granite  masses  a  resemblance  to  bales  of  wool  or 
cotton  heaped  on  each  other ;  another  characteristic 
form  is  the  mushroom-shaped  mass,  often  lying 
poised  on  the  summits  of  more  cubical  boulders  or 
fragments ;  another  is  the  immense  flat  platform 
stretching  out  like  a  pier  into  the  sea ;  another  the 
oval  basins  formed  by  the  action  of  the  rain-water 
on  the  summits  of  the  rocks  and  boulders.  The 
colouring  of  the  rocks  was  very  various  and  beauti- 
ful :  sometimes  a  delicate  greyish-green  from  the 
shaggy  byssus  which  clothes  it,  chiefly  high  up 
from  the  water ;  then  a  light  warm  brown ;  then 
black  ;  occasionally  of  a  rich  yellow  ;  and  here  and 
there  purplish.  Below  the  rocks,  on  the  coast,  are 
almost  everywhere  heaps  of  white  boulders,  some- 
times remarkably  perfect  ovals,  and  looking  like 
huge  eggs  of  some  monstrous  bird.  Hardly  any 
weed  was  to  be  seen  on  the  granite,  except  here 
and  there  in  a  rock -pool,  green  with  young  ulva ; 
and  no  barnacles  incrust  the  rock,  no  black  mus- 
sels, scarcely  any  limpets.  The  waves  that  beat 
on  this  coast  are  clear  as  crystal,  and  we  used  to 
delight  in  watching  them  rear  themselves  like  the 


1857.]  Beauties  of  the  Coast.  331 

horses  of  a  mighty  sea-god  as  they  approached  the  Recoiiec- 
rocks  on  which  they  were  broken  into  eddies  of  isies,'  "  ^ 
milky  foam.  Along  a  great  part  of  this  southern  ^7!^'^*^ 
coast  there  stretch  heathy  or  furzy  downs,  over 
which  I  used  to  enjoy  rambling  immensely,  — 
there  is  a  sense  of  freedom  in  those  unenclosed 
grounds  that  one  never  has  in  a  railed  park,  how- 
ever extensive.  Then,  on  the  north  side  of  the 
island,  above  Sandy  Bar,  what  a  view  we  used 
to  get  of  the  opposite  islands  and  reefs,  with  their 
delicious  violet  and  yellow  tints,  —  the  tall  ship 
or  two  anchored  in  the  Sound,  changing  their 
aspect  like  living  things,  and  when  the  wind  was 
at  all  high  the  white  foam  prancing  round  the  reefs 
and  rising  in  fountain-like  curves  above  the  screen 
of  rocks ! 

Many  a  wet  and  dirty  walk  we  had  along  the 
lanes,  for  the  weather  was  often  wet  and  almost 
always  blustering.  Now  and  then,  however,  we 
had  a  clear  sky  and  a  calm  sea,  and  on  such  days  it 
was  delicious  to  look  up  after  the  larks  that  were 
soaring  above  us,  or  to  look  out  on  the  island-  and 
reef-studded  sea.  I  never  enjoyed  the  lark  before 
as  I  enjoyed  it  at  Scilly, — never  felt  the  full 
beauty  of  Shelley's  poem  on  it  before.  A  spot  we 
became  very  fond  of  toward  the  close  of  our  stay 
was  Carne  Lea,  where,  between  two  fine  jutting 
piles  of  granite,  there  was  a  soft  down,  gay  with 
the  pretty  pink  flowers  of  the  thrift,  which,  in  this 
island,  carpets  the  ground  like  greensward.  Here 
we  used  to  sit  and  lie  in  the  bright  afternoons, 
watching  the  silver  sunlight  on  the  waves,  —  bright 
silver,  not  golden,  —  it  is  the  morning  and  evening 
sunlight  that  is  golden.  A  week  or  two  after  our 
arrival  we  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.   Moyle, 


332  Social  Life  at  St.  Mary's.      [scilly  isles, 

Recouec-  the  suTgeoii,  wlio  became  a  delightful  friend  to  us, 
iS  ^""^  always  ready  to  help  with  the  contents  of  his  sur- 
March-May,  ^^^^  ^^  anything  else  at  his  command.  We  liked 
to  have  him  come  and  smoke  a  cigar  in  the  even- 
ing, and  look  in  now  and  then  for  a  little  lesson  in 
microscopy.  The  little  indications  of  the  social 
life  at  Scilly  that  we  were  able  to  pick  up  were 
very  amusing.  I  was  repeatedly  told,  in  order  to 
make  me  aware  who  Mr.  Hall  was,  that  he  married 
a  Miss  Lemon.  The  people  at  St.  Mary's  imagine 
that  the  lawyers  and  doctors  at  Penzance  are  a  sort 
of  European  characters  that  every  one  knows.  We 
heard  a  great  deal  about  Mr.  Quill,  an  Irishman, 
the  Controller  of  the  Customs ;  and  one  day,  when 
we  were  making  a  call  on  one  of  the  residents,  our 
host  said  two  or  three  times  at  intervals,  "  I  wish 
you  knew  Quill !  "  At  last,  on  our  farewell  call, 
we  saw  the  distinguished  Quill,  with  his  hair 
plaistered  down,  his  charming  smile,  and  his 
trousers  with  a  broad  stripe  down  each  leg.  Our 
host  amused  us  by  his  contempt  for  curs :  "  Oh,  I 
would  n't  have  a  cur,  —  there  's  nothing  to  look  at 
in  a  cur ! "  ^ 
Letter  to  The  Smallest  details  written  in  the  hastiest  way 

^"aS'    that  will  enable  me  to  imagine  you  as  you  are,  are 
*^^*  just  what  I  want,  —  indeed,   all  I  care  about  in 

correspondence.  We  are  more  and  more  in  love 
with  these  little  islands.  There  is  not  a  tree  to  be 
seen,  but  there  are  grand  granite  hills  on  the  coast 
such  as  I  never  saw  before,  and  furze-covered  hills 
with  larks  soaring  and  singing  above  them,  and 
zoolosfical  wonders  on  the  shore  to  fill  our  bottles 
and  our  souls  at  once.  For  some  time  I  have  been 
unusually  weak  and  knock -upable.    Our  landlady  is 

1  "Mill  on  the  Floss "  chap.  ijj. ,  Book  IV,    Bob  Jakin. 


1857.]  Careless  Cooking.  333 

an  excellent  woman,  but  like  almost  all  peculiarly  Letter  to 
domestic  women,  has  not  more  than  rudimentary  5th  Aprfi^' 
ideas  of  cooking;  and  in  an  island  where  you  can  ^^^' 
get  nothing  but  beef,  except  by  sending  to  Pen- 
zance, that  supreme  science  has  its  maximum 
value.  She  seems  to  think  eating  a  purely  arbi- 
trary procedure,  —  an  abnormal  function  of  mad 
people  who  come  to  Scilly  ;  and  if  we  ask  her  what 
the  people  live  on  here,  is  quite  at  a  loss  to  tell  us, 
apparently  thinking  the  question  relates  to  the 
abstruser  portion  of  natural  history.  But  I  insist, 
and  give  her  a  culinary  lecture  every  morning,  and 
we  do  in  the  end  get  fed.  Altogether  our  life  here 
is  so  far  better  than  the  golden  age,  that  we  work 
as  well  as  play.  That  is  the  happy  side  of  things. 
But  there  is  a  very  sad  one  to  me  which  I  shall 
not  dwell  upon,  —  only  tell  you  of.  More  than  a 
week  ago  I  received  the  news  that  poor  Chrissey 
had  lost  one  of  her  pretty  little  girls  of  fever;  that 
the  other  little  one  —  they  were  the  only  two  she 
had  at  home  with  her  —  was  also  dangerously  ill, 
and  Chrissey  herself  and  her  servant  apparently 
attacked  by  typhus  too.  The  thought  of  her  in 
this  state  is  a  perpetual  shadow  to  me  in  the 
sunshine. 

I  shudder  at  entering  on  such  great  subjects  (as  Letter  to 
"  Design  ")  in  letters ;  —  my  idle  brain  wants  lash-  Henneu* 
ing   to  work  like  a  negro,  and  will   do   nothing  jgl^^'''^ 
under    a    slighter   stimulus.      We    are  enjoying  a 
retrogression  to  old-fashioned  reading.      I  rush  on 
the   slightest   pretext    to    Sophocles,    and   am   as 
excited  about  blind  old  OEdipus  as  any  young  lady 
can  be  about  the  latest  hero  with  magnificent  eyes. 
But  there  is  one  new  book  we  have  been  enjoying, 
^nd  so,  I  hope,  have  you,  —  the  "  Life  of  Charlotte 


334 


Anxiety  for  Mrs,  Clarke,      [scilly  isles, 


Letter  to  Bionte. "  Deeply  affecting  throughout:  in  the 
H^^iifu?  early  part  romantic,  poetic  as  one  of  her  own 
iGth  April,  jjQygis .  JQ  i^he  later  years  tragic,  —  especially  to 
those  who  know  what  sickness  is.  Mrs.  Gaskell 
has  done  her  work  admirably,  both  in  the  industry 
and  care  with  which  she  has  gathered  and  selected 
her  material,  and  in  the  feeling  with  which  she 
has  presented  it.  There  is  one  exception,  how- 
ever, which  I  regret  very  much.  She  sets  down 
Branwell's  conduct  entirely  to  remorse.  Remorse 
may  make  sad  work  with  a  man ;  but  it  will  not 
make  such  a  life  as  Branwell's  was  in  the  last 
three  or  four  years,  unless  the  germs  of  vice  had 
sprouted  and  shot  up  long  before,  as  it  seems  clear 
they  had  in  him.  What  a  tragedy  !  —  that  picture 
of  the  old  father  and  the  three  sisters  trembling, 
day  and  night,  in  terror  at  the  possible  deeds  of 
their  drunken,  brutal  son  and  brother!  That  is 
the  part  of  the  life  which  affects  me  most. 
Letter  to  I  havc  been  looking  anxiously  for  some  further 

Evans,  16th   tidiugs  of  Chrisscy  since  your  last  letter,   which 
Apru,  i8o7.    ^^1^  ^g  ^|^^|.  gj^g  ^^^  Kate  were  better,  though  not 

out  of  danger.  I  try  to  hope  that  no  news  is  good 
news,  but  if  you  do  not  think  it  troublesome  to 
write,  I  shall  be  thankful  to  have  that  hope  changed 
into  certainty. 

Meanwhile,  to  save  multiplying  letters,  —  which 
I  know  you  are  not  fond  of,  — I  mention  now  what 
will  take  no  harm  from  being  mentioned  rather 
prematurely.  I  should  like  Chrissey  to  have  £15 
of  my  next  half-year's  income,  due  at  the  begin- 
ning of  June,  to  spend  in  taking  a  change  of  air  as 
soon  as  she  is  able  to  do  so ;  and  perhaps  if  it  were 
desirable  for  her  to  leave  before  the  -money  has  been 
paid  in,  you  would  be  so  kind  as  to  advance  it  for 


1857.]  "Mr.   GilfiV  Finished.  335 

a  few  weeks.     I  am  writing,  of  course,  in  iguo-  Letter  to 
ranee   of  her  actual  state;  but  I  should  think  it  Ev^sficth 
must   be  good  for  her,  as  soon  as  she  is  able  to  ^p^^'^^^^- 
move,  to  leave  that  fever-infected  place  for  a  time, 
and  I  know  the  money  must  have  gone  very  fast  in 
recent  expenses.     I  only  suggest  the  change  of  air 
as  the  thing  that  I  should  think  best  for  Chrissey ; 
but  in  any  case  I  should  like  her  to  have  the  money 
to  do  what  she   pleases  with  it.     If  she    is  well 
enough,  please  to  give  her  the   enclosed  note,  in 
which  I  have  suggested  to  her  what  I  have  just 
written  to  you. 

I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  last  letter, 
and  shall  be  still  more  so  if  you  will  write  me 
word  of  Chrissey 's  present  condition. 

Thank  you  for  the  pleasant  notes  of  impressions  Letter  to 

,  .     .  ,1  1     -r  John  Black 

concerning  my  story  sent  to  me  through  Lewes.         wood,  ut 

I  will  pay  attention  to  your  caution  about  the 
danger  of  huddling  up  my  stories.  Conclusions 
are  the  weak  point  of  most  authors,  but  some  of 
the  fault  lies  in  the  very  nature  of  a  conclusion 
which  is  at  best  a  negation. 

There  must  be  something  wrong  in  the  winding 
up  of  "  Amos, "  for  I  have  heard  of  two  persons 
who  are  disappointed  with  the  conclusion.  But 
the  story  never  presented  itself  to  me  as  possible 
to  be  protracted  after  Milly's  death.  The  drama 
ends  there. 

I  am  thinking  of  writing  a  short  epilogue  to 
"  Mr.  Gilfil's  Love-Story,"  and  I  will  send  it  you 
with  the  proof  from  Jersey,  where,  on  a  strict 
promise  that  I  am  not  to  be  dissected,  I  shall 
shortly  join  our  friend  Lewes. 

The  third  story  will  be  very  different  from  either 
of  the  preceding,  which  will  perhaps  be  an  advau- 


May,  1857. 


336  Jersey  Scenery.  [jersey, 

tage,  as  poor  Tina's  sad  tale  was  necessarily  rather 
monotonous  in  its  effects. 

The  Epilogue  to  "  Mr.  Gilfil  "  was  written 
sitting  on  the  Fortification  Hill,  Scilly  Isles, 
one  sunshiny  morning. 
Jersey,  Rec-  It  was  a  bcautiful  moment  (12th  May)  when  we 
itOT.  '°"^'  came  to  our  lodgings  at  Gorey.  The  orchards  were 
all  in  blossom,  —  and  this  is  an  island  of  orchards. 
They  cover  the  slopes ;  tliey  stretch  before  you  in 
shady,  grassy,  indefinite  extent  through  every  other 
gateway  by  the  roadside;  they  flourish  in  some 
spots  almost  close  to  the  sea.  What  a  contrast  to 
the  Scilly  Isles !  There  you  stand  on  the  hills  like 
a  sparrow  on  the  housetop ;  here  you  are  like  the 
same  sparrow  when  he  is  hopping  about  on  the 
branches  with  green  above  him,  green  below,  and 
green  all  round.  Gorey  stands  in  Granville  Bay, 
where  the  grand  old  castle  of  Mont  Orgueil  stands 
and  keeps  guard  on  a  fine  rocky  promontory  over- 
looking the  little  harbour  dotted  with  fishing  craft. 
There  is  a  charming  piece  of  common,  or  down, 
where  you  can  have  the  quietest,  easiest  walking, 
with  a  carpet  of  minute  wild  flowers  that  are  not 
hindered  from  flourishing  by  the  sandy  rain  of  the 
coast.  I  delighted  extremely  in  the  brownish- 
green  softness  of  this  undulating  common,  here 
and  there  varied  with  a  patch  of  bright  green  fern, 
—  all  the  prettier  for  two  little  homesteads  set 
down  upon  it,  with  their  garden-fence  and  shelter- 
ing trees.  It  was  pretty  in  all  lights,  but  espe- 
cially the  evening  light,  to  look  round  at  the  castle 
and  harbour,  the  village  and  the  scattered  dwell- 
ings peeping  out  from  among  trees  on  the  hill. 
The  castle  is  built  of  stone  which  has  a  beautiful 
pinkish-grey  tint,  and  the  bright  green  ivy  hangg 


1857.]  Inland   Walks.  337 

oblique  curtains  on  its  turreted  walls,  making  it  Jersey,  Reo 
look  like  a  natural  continuation  or  outgrowth  of  isItV"*' 
the  rocky  and  grassy  height  on  which  it  stands. 
Then  the  eye  wanders  on  to  the  right  and  takes  in 
the  church  standing  halfway  down  the  hill,  which 
is  clothed  with  a  plantation,  and  shelters  the  little 
village  with  its  cloud  of  blue  smoke  :  still  to  the 
right  and  the  village  breaks  off,  leaving  nothing 
but  meadows  in  front  of  the  slope  that  shuts  out 
the  setting  sun,  and  only  lets  you  see  a  hint  of  the 
golden  glory  that  is  reflected  in  the  pink  eastern 
clouds. 

The  first  lovely  walk  we  found  inland  was  the 
Queen's  Fern  Valley,  where  a  broad  strip  of  meadow 
and  pasture  lies  between  two  high  slopes  covered 
with  woods  and  ferny  wilderness.  When  we  first 
saw  this  valley,  it  was  in  the  loveliest  springtime : 
the  woods  were  a  delicious  mixture  of  red  and 
tender  green  and  purple.  We  have  watched  it 
losing  that  spring  beauty  and  passing  into  the 
green  and  flowery  luxuriance  of  June,  and  now  into 
the  more  monotonous  summer  tint  of  July. 

When  the  blossoms  fell  away  from  the  orchards, 
my  next  delight  was  to  look  at  the  grasses  mingled 
with  the  red  sorrel ;  then  came  the  white  umbel- 
liferous plants,  making  a  border  or  inner  frame  for 
them  along  the  hedgerows  and  streams.  Another 
pretty  thing  here  is  the  luxuriance  of  the  yellow 
iris  that  covers  large  pieces  of  moist  ground  with 
its  broad  blades.  Everywhere  there  are  tethered 
cows,  looking  at  you  with  meek  faces,  —  mild- 
eyed,  sleek,  fawn-coloured  creatures,  with  delicate 
downy  udders. 

Another  favourite  walk  of  ours  was  round  by 
Mont  Orgueil  along  the  coast.     Here  we  had  the 

VOL.  I.  —  22 


338  Boohs  Bead.  [jersey, 

Jersey,  Rec-  green  or  rocky  slope  on  one  side  of  us,  and  on  the 
o^^ctioM,     ^^^^^^  ^^^  ^^j^  gg^  stretching  to  the  coast  of  France, 

visible  on  all  but  the  murkiest  days.  But  the 
murky  days  were  not  many  during  our  stay,  and 
our  evening  walks  round  the  coast  usually  showed 
us  a  peaceful,  scarcely  rippled  sea,  plashing  gently 
on  the  purple  pebbles  of  the  little  scalloped  bays. 
There  were  two  such  bays  within  the  boundary  of 
'  our  sea-side  walk  in  that  direction,  and  one  of  them 
was  a  perpetual  wonder  to  us,  in  the  luxuriant  ver- 
dure of  meadows  and  orchards  and  forest-trees  that 
sloped  down  to  the  very  shore.  No  distressed  look 
about  the  trees,  as  if  they  were  ever  driven  harshly 
back  by  the  winter  winds :  it  was  like  an  inland 
slope  suddenly  carried  to  the  coast. 

As  for  the  inland  walks,  they  are  inexhaustible. 
The  island  is  one  labyrinth  of  delicious  roads  and 
lanes,  leading  you  by  the  most  charming  nooks  of 
houses  with  shady  grounds  and  shrubberies,  — 
deliohtful  farm  homesteads,  — and  trim  villas. 

It  was  a  sweet,  peaceful  life  we  led  here.  Good 
creatures,  the  Amys,  our  host  and  hostess,  with 
their  nice  boy  and  girl,  and  the  little  white  kid, 
—  the  family  pet.  No  disagreeable  sounds  to  be 
heard  in  the  house,  no  unpleasant  qualities  to  hin- 
der one  from  feeling  perfect  love  to  these  simple 
people.  We  have  had  long  rambles  and  long  read- 
ings. But  our  choice  of  literature  has  been  rather 
circumscribed  in  this  out-of-the-way  place.  The 
"  Life  of  George  Stephenson  "  has  been  a  real  profit 
and  pleasure.  I  have  read  Draper's  "  Physiology  " 
aloud  for  grave  evening  hours,  and  such  books  as 
Currer  Bell's  "Professor,"  Mile.  d'Auny's  "  Ma- 
riace  en  Province,"  and  Miss  Ferrier's  "  Marriage," 
for   lighter   food.     The   last,   however,    we   found 


1857.]  Life  in  Jersey.  339 

ourselves   unable  to  finish,  notwithstanding  Miss  Jersey,  Rec- 
i'enier's  high  reputation,      I  have  been  getting  a  isstV-"^' 
smattering  of  botany  from  Miss  Catlow  and  from 
Dr.   Thomson's  little  book  on  wild  tlowers,  which 
have  created  at  least  a  longing  for  something  more 
complete  on  the  subject. 

Such  hedgerows  in  this  island  !  Such  orchards  Letter  to 
white  against  the  green  slopes  and  shady  walks,  Hemieu* 
by  the  woodside  with  distracting  wdld  flowers,  f^^^' 
We  enjoy  the  greenery  and  variety  of  this  bushy 
island  all  the  better  for  our  stay  on  bare  Scilly, 
which  we  had  gone  to  and  fro  upon  till  we  knew 
it  by  heart.  Our  little  lodgings  are  very  snug,  — 
only  13s.  a  week,  —  a  nice  little  sitting-room,  with 
a  work-room  adjoining  for  Mr.  Lewes,  who  is  at 
this  moment  in  all  the  bliss  of  having  discovered 
a  parasitic  worm  in  a  cuttlefish.  We  dine  at  five, 
and  our  afternoons  are  almost  exhausted  in  ram- 
bling. T  hope  to  get  up  my  strength  in  this  deli- 
cious quiet,  and  have  fewer  interruptions  to  work 
from  headache  than  I  have  been  having  since 
Christmas.  I  wonder  if  I  should  have  had  the  hap- 
piness of  seeing  Cara  if  I  had  been  at  Eichmond 
now.  I  woYild  rather  see  her  than  any  one  else  in 
the  world  —  except  poor  Chrissey.  Tell  me  when 
you  have  read  the  life  of  Currer  Bell.  Some 
people  think  its  revelations  in  bad  taste,  —  making 
money  out  of  the  dead,  wounding  the  feelings  of 
the  living,  &c.  What  book  is  there  that  some 
people  or  other  will  not  find  abominable  ?  We 
thought  it  admirable,  cried  over  it,  and  felt  the 
better  for  it.  We  read  Cromwell's  letters  again  at 
Scilly  with  great  delight. 

In    May    Mr.    Lewes    writes    to    Mr.    John 
Blackwood :  "  We  were    both  amused   with  the 


1857. 


340  Opinions  of '  Mr.  GilfiW  [jersey, 

divination  of  the  Manx  seer  and  his  friend 
Ligcjers."  This  is  the  first  mention  of  the 
individual,  whose  real  name  was  Liggins  of 
Nuneaton,  who  afterwards  became  notorious  for 
laying  claim  to  the  authorship  of  the  "Scenes 
of  Clerical  Life"  and  "Adam  Bede." 

"  Janet's  Eepentance  "  had  been  begun  on  the 
18th  April,  and  the  first  three  parts  were  fin- 
ished in  Jersey.     In  reference  to  the  "  Scenes  of 
Clerical  Life  "  there  are  the  following  entries  in 
the  Journal :  — 
Journal,       May  2. — Reccived  letter  from  Blackwood  express- 
ing his  approbation    of   Part    IX.  of  "  Mr.   Gilfil's 
Love-Story."     He  writes  very  pleasantly,  says  the 
series  is  attributed  by  many  to  Bulwer,  and  that 
Thackeray  thinks  highly  of  it.     This  was  a  pleas- 
ant  fillip    to  me,    who  am    just  now   ready   to  be 
dispirited  on  the  slightest  pretext. 

May  21.  —  The  other  day  we  had  a  pleasant 
letter  from  Herbert  Spencer,  saying  that  he  had 
heard  "  Mr.  Gilfil's  Love-Story  "  discussed  by  Baynes 
and  Dallas,  as  well  as  previously  by  Pigott,  all 
expressing  warm  approval  and  curiosity  as  to  the 
author. 

May  26.  — Eeceived  a  pleasant  letter  from  Black- 
wood, enclosing  one  from  Archer  Gurney  to  the 
author  of  "Mr.  Gilfil's  Love-Story." 

I  subjoin  this  letter,  as  it  is  the  first  she 
received  in  her  character  of  a  creative  author, 
and  it  still  bears  a  pencil  memorandum  in  her 
writing:  "This  letter  he  brought  up  to  me  at 
Jersey  after  reading  it,  saying  with  intense  joy, 
*  Her  fame  is  beginning,' " 


1857.]     Rev.  Archer  Gurney  on  "  The  Seems."        341 

"  BUCKINGHAM  (bucks),         Letter  from 
Thursday,  14th  Man,  1857.       Rev.  Archer 

Gurney  to 

"  Sir,  —  Will  you  consider  it  impertinent  in  a  "  Mrl^Gim  °s 
brother  author  and  old  reviewer  to  address  a  few  ntlf "Mly7'' 
lines  of  earnest  sympathy  and  admiration  to  you,  ^^^' 
excited  by  the  purity  of  your  style,  originality 
of  your  thoughts,  and  absence  of  all  vulgar  seek- 
ing for  efi'ect  in  those  '  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life ' 
now   appearing  in  '  Blackwood '  ?     If  I  mistake 
not  much,  your  muse  of  invention  is  no  hack- 
neyed one,  and  your  style  is  too  peculiar  to  allow 
of  your  being  confounded  with  any  of  the  already 
well-known  writers  of  the  day.     Your  great  and 
characteristic  charm   is,   to   my   mind,   Nature. 
You  frequently,  indeed,  express  what  I  may  call 
brilliant  ideas,  but  they  always  seem  to  come 
unsought  for,  never,  as  hi  Lytton,  for  instance, 
to  be  elaborated  and  placed  in  the  most  advan- 
tageous light.     I  allude  to  such  brief  aphoristic 
sayings  as  'Animals  are  such  agreeable  friends, 
they  ask  no  questions,  they  pass  no  criticisms,* 
— '  All  with  that  brisk  and  cheerful  air  which 
a  sermon  is  often  observed  to  produce  when  it 
is  quite  finished.'     By  the  by,  I  am  one  of  the 
cloth,  and  might  take  exception  to  certain  hints, 
perhaps,   but  these  are  dubious.     What  I   see 
plainly  I  admire  honestly,  and  trust  that  more 
good  remains  behind.     Will  you  always  remain 
equally  natural  ?     That  is  the  doubt.     Will  the 
fear  of  the  critic,  or  the  public,  or  the  literary 
world,   which   spoils    almost   every   one,   never 
master  you  ?     Will  you  always  write  to  please 
yourself,  and   preserve  tlie   true   independence 
which  seems  to  mark  a  real  supremacy  of  intel- 
lect ?     But  these  questions  are,  I  fear,   imper- 


342  Lord  Stanley  on  "  The  Scenes."      [jersey, 

tiuent.  I  will  conclude.  Pardon  this  word  of 
greeting  from  one  whom  you  may  never  see  or 
know,  and  believe  me,  your  earnest  admirer, 

"  Akcher  Gurney. 

«  The  Author  of 
'Mr.  Gilfil's  Love-Story.'" 

Journal,       Junc.  —  Blackwood    writes  from    London  that   he 

1857 

hears  nothing  but  approval  of  "  Mr.  Gilfil's  Love- 
Story."  Lord  Stanley,  among  other  people,  had 
spoken  to  him  about  the  "  Clerical  Scenes"  at  Bul- 
wer's,  and  was  astonished  to  find  Blackwood  in  the 
dark  as  to  the  author. 
Letter  to  I  scud  you  by  the   same  post  with  this  the  first 

wood,  2^  "  part  of  my  third  story,  which  I  hope  will  not  dis- 
june,  1857.    ^p^^^-j^^  ^^^       rj^^iQ  part  is,  I  think,  rather  longer 

than  my  parts  have  usually  been,  but  it  would  have 
been  injurious  to  the  effect  of  the  story  to  pause 
earlier. 

Pleasant  letters  like  yours  are  the  best  possible 
stimulus  to  an  author's  powers,  and  if  I  don't  write 
better  and  better,  the  fault  will  certainly  not  lie  in 
my  editor,  who  seems  to  have  been  created  in  pre- 
established  harmony  with  the  organisation  of  a 
susceptible  contributor. 

This  island,  too,  with  its  grassy  valleys  and  pretty 
indented  coast,  is  not  at  all  a  bad  haunt  for  the 
Muses,  if,  as  one  may  suppose,  they  have  dropped 
their  too  scanty  classical  attire,  and  appear  in  long 
dresses  and  brown  hats,  like  decent  Christian 
women    likely  to    inspire  "Clerical    Scenes." 

Moreover,  having  myself  a  slight  zoological  weak- 
ness, I  am  less  alarmed  than  most  people  at  the 
society  of  a  zoological  maniac.  So  that,  altogether, 
your  contributor  is  in  promising  circumstances,  and 
if  lie  does  n't  behave  like  an  animal  in  good  condi- 
tion, is  clearly  unworthy  of  his  keep. 


1S57.]  Professor  Aytoun's  Admiration.  343 

I  am  much  gratified  to  have  made  the  conquest  Letter  to 
of  Professor  Aytouii ;  but  with  a  parent's  love  for  w'ood,  'iT 
the  depreciated  child,  I  can't  help  standing  up  for  ''""^'  ^^^' 
"Amos"  as  better  than  "  Gilfil." 

Lewes  seems  to  have  higher  expectations  from 
the  third  story  than  from  either  of  the  preceding,  but 
I  can  form  no  judgment  myself  until  I  have  quite 
finished  a  thing,  and  see  it  aloof  from  my  actual  self. 
I  can  only  go  on  writing  what  I  feel,  and  waiting 
for  the  proof  that  I  have  been  able  to  make  others 
feel. 

Richmond  is  not  fascinating  in  "the  season"   or  Letter  to 
through  the  summer.     It  is  hot,  noisy,  and  haunted  stwuuef' 
with  Cockneys  ;  but  at  other  times  we  love  the  Park  ^^'*** 
with  an  increasing  love,  and  we  have  such  a  kind, 
good  landlady  there,  that  it  always  seems  like  going 
home  when  we  return  to  Park  Shot.     She  writes  to 
us :  "  I  hope  you  will  make  your  fortune  —  but  you 
must  always  live  with  me,"  which,  considering  that 
she  gets  less  out  of  us  than  other  lodgers,  is  a  proof 
of  affection  in  a  landlady.     Yes  !  we  like  our  wander- 
ing life  at  present,  and  it  is  fructifying,  and  brings 
us  material  in  many  ways  ;  but  we  keep  in  perspec- 
tive the  idea  of  a  cottage  among  green  fields  and 
cows,  where  we  mean  to  settle  down  (after  we  have 
once  been  to  Italy),  and  buy  pots  and  kettles  and 
keep  a  dog.     Wherever  we  are  we  work  hard,  —  and 
at  work  which  brings  present  money ;  for  we  have 
too  many  depending  on  us  to  be  dilettanti  or  idlers. 

I  wish  it  to  be  understood  that  I  should  never 
invite  any  one  to  come  and  see  me  who  did  not  ask 
for  the  invitation. 

You  wonder  how  my  face  has  changed  in  the  last 
three  years.  Doubtless  it  is  older  and  uglier,  but  it 
ought  not  to  have  a  bad  expression,  for  I  never  have 


344 


Interest  in  Mrs.  Sibrecs  Family,     [jersky 


Letter 
to  Mrs 
John  Cash 


anything  to  call  out  my  ill-humor  or  discontent,  — 
which  you  know  were  always  ready  enough  to  come 
on  slight  call,  —  and  I  have  everything  to  call  out 
love  and  gratitude. 

Your  letter  was  very  sweet  to  me.  The  sense  of 
my  deficiencies  in  the  past  often  presses  on  me  with 
s^rcej^Gth  a  discouraging  weight,  and  to  know  that  any  one 
June,  1857.  ^j^j-^  remember  me  lovingly,  helps  me  to  believe  that 
there  has  been  some  good  to  balance  the  evil.  I 
like  to  think  of  you  as  a  happy  wife  and  mother ; 
and  since  Rosehill  must  have  new  tenants,  I  like  to 
think  that  you  and  yours  are  there  rather  than  any 
one  else,  not  only  because  of  my  own  confidence  in 
your  nature,  but  because  our  dear  friends  love  you 
so  much  as  a  neighbour.  You  know  I  can  never 
feel  otherwise  than  sorry  that  they  should  not  have 
ended  their  days  in  that  pretty  home;  but  the 
inevitable  regret  is  softened  as  much  as  possible  by 
the  fact  that  the  home  has  become  yours. 

It  is  very  nice  to  hear  that  Mrs.  Sibree  can  relish 
anything  of  my  writing.  She  was  always  a  favour- 
ite with  me ;  and  I  remember  very  vividly  many 
pleasant  little  conversations  with  her.  Seventy- 
two  !  How  happy  you  are  to  have  a  dear,  aged 
mother,   whose  heart  you  can  gladden ! 

I  was  a  good  deal  touched  by  the  letter  your 
brother  wrote  to  you  about  accepting,  or  rather 
declining,  more  pupils.  I  feel  sure  that  his  sensi- 
tive nature  has  its  peculiar  trials  and  struggles  in 
this  strange  life  of  ours,  which  some  thick-skinned 
mortals  take  so  easily. 

I  am  very  happy,  — happy  in  the  highest  bless- 
ing life  can  give  us,  the  perfect  love  and  sympathy 
of  a  nature  that  stimulates  my  own  to  healthful 
activity.     I   feel  too  that  all  the  terrible  pain  I 


,c8o7.]  *  Janet's  Re;pentance'''  345 

have  gone  through  in  past  years,  partly  from  the  Letter 
defects   of  my  own   nature,    partly  from  outward  johu^ash 
things,  has  probably  been  a  preparation  for  some  s^breej^h 
special  work  that  I  may  do  before  I  die.      Tbat  is  ''"'^®'  ^^^' 
a  blessed  hope,  to  be  rejoiced  in  with  trembling. 
But  even  if  that  hope  should  be  unfulfilled,  I  am 
contented  to  have  lived  and  suffered  for  the  sake 
of    what  has  already  been.      You    see  your   kind 
letter  has  made  me  inclined  to  talk  about  myself, 
but  as  we  do  not  often  have  any  communication 
with  each  other,  I  know  it  will  be  a  gratification 
to  your  sympathetic  nature  to  have  a  few  direct 
words  from  me  that  will  assure  you  of  my  moral 
well  being. 

I  hope  your  little  ones  are  just  like  you,  —  just 
as  fair  and  sweet-tempered. 

I  sent  off  the  first  part  of  "  Janet's  Repentance, "  Joumai, 
but  to  my  disappointment  Blackwood  did  not  like  '^"'"''  ^^'" 
it  so  well,  —  seemed  to  misunderstand  the  charac- 
ters, and  to  be  doubtful  about  the  treatment  of 
clerical  matters.  I  wrote  at  once  to  beg  him  to 
give  up  printing  the  story  if  he  felt  uncomfortable 
about  it,  and  he  immediately  sent  a  very  anxious, 
cordial  letter,  saying  the  thought  of  putting  a  stop 
to  the  series  "  gave  him  quite  a  turn ;"  he  "  did  not 
meet  with  George  Eliots  every  day, "  —  and  so  on. 

I  am  not  much  surprised  and  not  at  all  hurt  by  Letter  to 
your  letter  received  to-day  with  the  proof.      It  is  wood,  nth 
a  great  satisfaction  —  in  fact,  my  only  satisfaction  *^""^'  ^^^^' 
—  that  you  should  give   me  your  judgment  with 
perfect  frankness.      I  am   able,   I  think,   to  enter 
into  an  editor's  doubts  and  difficulties,  and  to  see 
my  stories  in  some  degree  from  your  point  of  view 
as  well  as  my  own.      My  answer  is  written  after 
considering  the  question  as  far  as  possible  on  all 


346  "Janet's  Repentance."  [jersey, 

Letter  to  sidss,  aiid  as  I  feel  that  I  shall  not  be  able  to  make 
w'ood,  luh"  any  other  than  superficial  alterations  in  the  proof, 
June.  1857.    j  ^^.- jj^  g^^^.  ^^  ^^j^  ^^^  ^^^^t  I  can  in  explanation 

of  the  spirit  and  future  course  of  the  present  story. 

The  collision  in  the  drama  is  not  at  all  between 
"  bigoted  churchmauship  "  and  evangelicalism,  but 
between  /rreligion  and  religion.  Keligion  in  this 
case  happens  to  be  represented  by  evangelicalism ; 
and  the  story,  so  far  as  regards  the  persecution, 
is  a  real  bit  in  the  religious  history  of  England, 
that  happened  about  eight-and-twenty  years  ago. 
I  thought  I  had  made  it  apparent  in  my  sketch  of 
Milby  feelings,  on  the  advent  of  Mr.  Tryan,  that 
the  conflict  lay  between  immorality  and  morality, 
—  irreligion  and  religion.  Mr.  Tryan  will  carry 
the  reader's  sympathy.  It  is  through  him  that 
Janet  is  brought  to  repentance.  Dempster's  vices 
have  their  natural  evolution  in  deeper  and  deeper 
moral  deterioration  (though  not  without  softening 
touches),  and  death  from  intemperance.  Every- 
thing is  softened  from  the  fact,  so  far  as  art  is 
permitted  to  soften  and  yet  to  remain  essentially 
true. 

My  sketches,  both  of  Churchmen  and  Dissenters, 
with  whom  I  am  almost  equally  acquainted,  are 
drawn  from  close  observation  of  them  in  real  life, 
and  not  at  all  from  hearsay  or  from  the  descrip- 
tions of  novelists.  If  I  were  to  undertake  to  alter 
language  or  character,  I  should  be  attempting  to 
represent  some  vague  conception  of  what  may 
possibly  exist  in  other  people's  minds,  but  has 
no  existence  in  my  own.  Such  of  your  marginal 
objections  as  relate  to  a  mere  detail,  I  can  meet 
without  difficulty  by  alteration ;  but  as  an  artist 
I  should  be  utterly  powerless  if  I  departed  from 


1857.]  "Janet's  Repentance."  347 

my  own  conceptions  of  life  and  character.  There  Letter  to 
is  nothing  to  be  done  with  the  story,  but  either  to  wood,  luh" 
let  Dempster  and  Janet  and  the  rest  be  as  I  see  *''^^•^^'• 
them,  or  to  renounce  it  as  too  painful.  I  am  keenly 
alive,  at  once  to  the  scruples  and  alarms  an  editor 
may  feel,  and  to  my  own  utter  inability  to  write 
under  cramping  intiueuce,  and  on  this  double 
ground  I  should  like  you  to  consider  whether  it 
will  not  be  better  to  close  the  series  for  the  "  Maga- 
zine" now.  I  daresay  you  will  feel  no  difficulty 
about  publishing  a  volume  containing  the  story  of 
"  Janet's  Eepentance, "  and  I  shall  accept  that  plan 
with  no  other  feeling  than  that  you  have  been  to 
me  the  most  liberal  and  agreeable  of  editors,  and 
are  the  man  of  all  others  I  would  choose  for  a 
publisher. 

My  irony,  so  far  as  I  understand  myself,  is  not 
directed  against  opinions,  —  against  any  class  of 
religious  views,  — but  against  the  vices  and  weak- 
nesses that  belong  to  human  nature  in  every  sort 
of  clothing.  But  it  is  possible  that  I  may  not 
affect  other  minds  as  I  intend  and  wish  to  affect 
them,  and  you  are  a  better  judge  than  I  can  be  of 
the  degree  in  which  I  may  occasionally  be  offen- 
sive. I  should  like  not  to  be  offensive,  — I  should 
like  to  touch  every  heart  among  my  readers  with 
nothing  but  loving  humour,  with  tenderness,  with 
belief  in  goodness.  But  I  may  have  failed  in  this 
case  of  Janet,  at  least  so  far  as  to  have  made  you 
feel  its  publication  in  the  "  Magazine  "  a  disagree- 
able risk.  If  so,  there  will  be  no  harm  done  by 
closing  the  series  with  No.  2,  as  I  have  suggested. 
If,  however,  I  take  your  objections  to  be  deeper 
than  they  really  are,  —  if  you  prefer  inserting  the 
story  in  spite  of  your  partial  dissatisfaction,  I  shall 


348 


No  Bepenting  of  the  Past.  [jersey, 


Letter  to 
Jolrn  Black- 
wood, 11th 
June,  1857. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hemiell, 
8tb  June, 
1857. 


of  course  be  happy  to  appear  under  "  Maga's  " 
wing  still. 

When  I  remember  what  have  been  the  successes 
in  fiction,  even  as  republications  from  "  Maga, " 
I  can  hardly  believe  that  the  public  will  regard  my 
pictures  as  exceptionally  coarse.  But  in  any  case 
there  are  too  many  prolific  writers  who  devote 
themselves  to  the  production  of  pleasing  pictures, 
to  the  exclusion  of  all  disagreeable  truths,  for  me 
to  desire  to  add  to  their  number.  In  this  respect, 
at  least,  I  may  have  some  resemblance  to  Thacke- 
ray, though  1  am  not  conscious  of  being  in  any 
way  a  disciple  of  his,  unless  it  constitute  disci- 
pleship  to  think  him,  as  I  supjiose  the  majority  of 
people  with  any  intellect  do,  on  the  whole  the 
most  powerful  of  living  novelists. 

I  feel  every  day  a  greater  disinclination  for 
theories  and  arguments  about  the  origin  of  things 
in  the  presence  of  all  this  mystery  and  beauty  and 
pain  and  ugliness  that  floods  one  with  conflicting 
emotions. 

We  are  reading  "  Aurora  Leigh  "  for  the  third 
time  with  more  enjoyment  than  ever.  I  know 
no  book  that  gives  me  a  deeper  sense  of  communion 
with  a  large  as  well  as  beautiful  mind.  It  is  in 
process  of  appearing  in  a  third  edition,  and  no 
wonder. 

If  I  live  five  years  longer,  the  positive  result  of 
my  existence  on  the  side  of  truth  and  goodness  will 
outweigh  the  small  negative  good  that  would  have 
consisted  in  my  not  doing  anything  to  shock  others, 
and  I  can  conceive  no  consequences  that  will  make 
me  repent  the  past.  Do  not  misunderstand  me, 
and  suppose  that  I  think  myself  heroic  or  great  in 
any  way.     Far  enough  from  that!     Faulty,  miser- 


1857.]  Mr.  Tryan.  349 

ably  faulty  I  am,  —  but  least  of  all  faulty  when 

others  most  blame. 

On  the  24th  July  the  pleasant  sojourn  at 
Jersey  came  to  an  end.  The  travellers  returned 
to  8  Park  Shot,  Eichmond,  where  Miss  Sara 
Hennell  paid  them  a  visit  at  the  end  of  the 
month,  and  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Bodichon  {nee  Miss 
Barbara  L.  Smith)  came  on  the  4th  of  August. 
On  the  12th  August  there  is  an  entry  in  the 
Journal,  "  Finished  the  '  Electra  '  of  Sophocles, 
and  began  ^schylus's  'Agamemnon,'"  and 
then  come  the  following  letters :  — 

Lewes  has  just  given  me  your  letter  of  the   15th  Letter  to 

with  the  accompanying  one  from  the  Eev.   W.  P.  wood,  Tue» 

Jones.  Aug.  1857. 

Mr.  Tryan  is  not  a  portrait  of  any  clergyman, 
living  or  dead.  He  is  an  ideal  character,  but  I 
hope  probable  enough  to  resemble  more  than  one 
evangelical  clergyman  of  his  day. 

If  Mr.  Jones's  deceased  brother  was  like  Mr. 
Tryan,  so  much  the  better,  for  in  that  case  he  was 
made  of  human  nature's  finer  clay,  I  think  you 
will  agree  with  me  that  there  are  few  clergymen 
who  would  be  depreciated  by  an  identification 
with  Mr.  Tryan.  But  I  should  rather  suppose 
that  the  old  gentleman,  misled  by  some  similarity 
in  outward  circumstances,  is  blind  to  the  discrep- 
ancies which  must  exist  where  no  portrait  was 
intended.  As  to  the  rest  of  my  story,  so  far  as  its 
elements  were  suggested  by  real  persons,  those 
persons  have  been,  to  use  good  Mr.  Jones's  phrase, 
"  long  in  eternity.  " 

I  think  I  told  you  that  a  persecution  of  the  kind 
I  have  described  did  actually  take  place,  and  be- 
longs as  much  to  the  common  store  of  our  religious 


350 


Rosa  Bonheur. 


[RICHMOND^ 


Letter  to 
Joiiu  Black- 
wood, Tues- 
day, 17th 
Aug.  1857. 


Letter  to 
MiBB  Sara 
Hennell, 
19th  Aug. 
1857. 


Letter  to 
John  Black- 
wood, l«t 
Sept.  1857. 


history  as  the  Gorham  Controversy,  or  as  Bishop 
Blomfield's  decision  about  wax  candles.  But  I 
only  know  the  outline  of  the  real  persecution.  The 
details  have  been  filled  in  from  my  imagination. 
I  should  consider  it  a  fault  which  would  cause  me 
lasting  regret  if  I  had  used  reality  in  any  other 
than  the  legitimate  way  common  to  all  artists, 
who  draw  their  materials  from  their  observation 
and  experience.  It  would  be  a  melancholy  result 
of  my  fictions,  if  I  gave  Just  cause  of  annoyance  to 
any  good  and  sensible  person.  But  I  suppose  there 
is  no  perfect  safeguard  against  erroneous  impres- 
sions or  a  mistaken  susceptibility.  We  are  all  apt 
to  forget  how  little  there  is  about  us  that  is  unique, 
and  how  very  strongly  we  resemble  many  other 
insignificant  people  who  have  lived  before  us.  I 
should  n't  wonder  if  several  nieces  of  pedantic 
maiden  ladies  saw  a  portrait  of  their  aunt  in  Miss 
Pratt,  but  I  hope  they  will  not  think  it  necessary, 
on  that  ground,  to  increase  the  already  troublesome 
number  of  your  correspondents. 
'  We  went  to  see  Rosa  Bonheur's  picture  the  other 
day.  What  power!  That  is  the  way  women 
should  assert  their  rights.  Writing  is  part  of  my 
religion,  and  I  can  write  no  word  that  is  not 
prompted  from  within.  At  the  same  time  I  believe 
that  almost  all  the  best  books  in  the  world  have 
been  written  with  the  hope  of  getting  money  for 
them. 

Unless  there  be  any  strong  reason  to  the  con- 
trary, I  should  like  to  close  the  series  with  this 
story.  According  to  my  calculation,  which,  how- 
ever, may  be  an  erroneous  one,  the  three  stories 
will  make  two  good  volumes,  — i.  e.,  good  as  to 
bulk. 


1857.}  Thought,  not  Action.  351 

I  have  a  subject  in  my  mind  which  will  not  Letter  to 
come  under  the  limitations  of  the  title  "  Clerical  w°o^,  ist'^ 
Life, "  and  I  am  inclined  to  take  a  large  canvas  for  ^*^^*'  ^^'' 
it  and  write  a  novel. 

In  case  of  my  writing  fiction  for  "  Maga  "  again, 
I  should  like  to  be  considerably  beforehand  with 
my  work,  so  that  you  can  read  a  thoroughly  deci- 
sive portion  before  beginning  to  print. 

The  days  are  very  peaceful,  —  peacefully  busy.  Letter  to 
One  always  feels  a  deeper  calm  as  autumn  comes  Hei^eu,^ 
on.    I  should  be  satisfied  to  look  forward  to  a  heaven  igs?.^''^* 
made  up  of  long  autumn  afternoon  walks,   quite 
delivered  from  any  necessity  of  giving  a  judgment 
on  the  woman  question,  or  of  reading  newspapers 
about  Indian  mutinies.      I  am  so  glad  there  are 
thousands  of  good  people  in  the  world  who  have 
very   decided   opinions,    and  are  fond  of  working 
hard  to  enforce  them.     I  like  to  feel  and  think 
everything  and  do  nothing,  a  pool  of  the    "  deep 
contemplative  "  kind. 

Some  people  do  prosper,  —  that  is  a  comfort. 
The  rest  of  us  must  fall  back  on  the  beatitudes,  — 
"  Blessed  are  the  poor,"  —  that  is  Luke's  version, 
you  know,  and  it  is  really,  on  the  whole,  more 
comforting  than  Matthew's.  I  'm  afraid  there  are 
few  of  us  who  can  appropriate  the  blessings  of  the 
"  poor  in  spirit.  " 

We  are  reading  one  of  the  most  wonderful  books 
in  French  or  any  other  literature, — Monteil's 
"  Histoire  des  Franqais  des  divers  Etats, "  —  a 
history  written  on  an  original  plan.  If  you  see 
any  account  of  it,  read  that  account. 

I  am  very  much  gratified  that  my  Janet  has  won  Letter  to 
your  heart  and  kept  up  your  interest  in  her  to  the  wood,  sntur. 

J  day,  17th 

6na.  Oct.  1857. 


352 


Aleditating  New  Story. 


D 


RICHMOND, 


Letter  to  M v  DGW  stoTv  haunts  me  a  good  deal,  and  I  shall 

John  Black-         ^      \         ^     .  "f,         ,      i    ,  t^        -ti     -l, 

wood.satur-  set  auout  it  Without  delay,  it  will  be  a  country 
odt!i857.  story,  — full  of  the  breath  of  cows  and  the  scent  of 
hay.  But  I  shall  not  ask  you  to  look  at  it  till  I 
have  written  a  volume  or  more,  and  then  you  will 
be  able  to  judge  whether  you  will  prefer  printing 
it  in  the  "  Magazine, "  or  publishing  it  as  a  sepa- 
rate novel  when  it  is  completed. 

By  the  way,  the  sheets  of  the  "  Clerical  Scenes  " 
are  not  come,  but  I  shall  not  want  to  make  any 
other  than  verbal  and  literal  corrections,  so  that  it 
will  hardly  be  necessary  for  me  to  go  through  the 
sheets  and  the  proofs,  which  I  must,  of  course,  see. 

I  enclose  a  titlepage  with  a  motto.  But  if  you 
don't  like  the  motto  I  give  it  up.  I  've  not  set  my 
heart  on  it. 

I  leave  the  number  of  copies  to  be  published,  and 
the  style  of  getting  up,  entirely  to  your  discretion. 
As  to  the  terms,  I  wish  to  retain  the  copyright, 
according  to  the  stipulation  made  for  me  by  Lewes 
when  he  sent  "  Amos  Barton ;  "  aud  whatever  you 
can  afford  to  give  me  for  the  first  edition,  I  shall 
prefer  having  as  a  definite  payment  rather  than  as 
half  profits. 

You  stated,  in  a  letter  about  "Amos  Barton," 
your  willingness  to  accede  to  either  plan,  so  I  have 
no  hesitation  in  expressing  my  wishes. 

"  Open  to  conviction, "  indeed  !  I  should  think  so. 
I  am  open  to  conviction  on  all  points  except  dinner 
and  debts.  I  hold  that  the  one  must  be  eaten  and 
the  other  paid.      These  are  my  only  prejudices. 

I  w'«s  pleased  with  Mr.   Call.^     He  is  a  man  one 

1  Mr.  W.  M.  W.  Call,  author  of  "  Reverberations  and  other 
Poems,"  who  married  Mr.  Charles  Hennell's  widow,  —  formerly 
Miss  Brabant.     As  will  be  -seen  from   the  subsecjuent  correspond 


Letter  to 
Mias  Sara 
H'unell, 
ajth  Oct. 
1857 


1857.]  The  "  Woman  Question."  353 

really  cares  to  talk  to,  — has  thoughts,  says  what  Letter  to 
he  means,    and  listens  to  what    others  say.     We  Hiuueu™ 
should  quite  like  to  see  him  often.     And  I  cannot  i^v.^*^*" 
tell  you  how  much  I  have  felt  Mrs.  Call's  graceful 
as  well  as  kind  behaviour  to  me.      Some  months 
ago,  before  the  new  edition  of  the  "  Biographical 
History  of  Philosophy  "  came  out,  Mr.    Lewes  had 
a  letter  from  a  working-man  at  Leicester,  I  think, 
who  said  that  he   and  some  fellow  students  met 
together,  on  a  Sunday,  to  read  the  book  aloud  and 
discuss  it.      He  had    marked  some  errors    of   the 
press,  and  sent  them    to  Mr.    Lewes  for  his  new 
edition.     Wasn't  that  pretty? 

"  Conscience  goes  to  the  hammering  in  of  nails  "  Letter  to  the 
is  my  gospeL  There  can  be  no  harm  in  preaching  oct^i'ss?.*^ 
that  to  women  at  any  rate.  But  I  should  be  sorry 
to  undertake  any  more  specific  enunciation  of  doc- 
trine on  a  question  so  entangled  as  the  "  woman 
question. "  The  part  of  the  Epicurean  gods  is 
always  an  easy  one ;  but  because  I  prefer  it  so 
strongly  myself,  I  the  more  highly  venerate  those 
who  are  struggling  in  the  thick  of  the  contest. 
"  La  carri^re  ouverte  aux  talens, "  whether  the 
talents  be  feminine  .or  masculine,  I  am  quite  con- 
fident is  a  right  maxim.  Whether  "  La  carriure 
ouverte  k  la  sottise  "  be  equally  just  when  made 
equally  universal,  it  would  be  too  much  like  "  tak- 
ing sides  "  for  me  to  say. 

There  are  only  three  entries  in  the  journal 
for  October. 
Oct.  9.  —  Finished  "  Janet's  Repentance.  "     I  had  Joumai, 

1857. 

ence,  Mr.  and  Mrs.   Call  remained   amongst  the  Leweses'  warm 
friends  to   the  end,   and   Mr.   Call  is  the  author  of  an  interest- 
ing paper  on  George  Eliot  in  the  "  Westminster  Review  "  of  July, 
1881. 
VOL.  I. —23 


354 


Unbelief  in  Others'  Love.         [richmomd, 


Journal, 
1857. 


Letter  to 
Jolrn  Black- 
wood, 30th 
Oct.  1S57. 


Letter  to 
Mrs.  Braj', 
1st  Nov. 
1857. 


meant  to  carry  on  the  series,  and  especially  I  longed 
to  tell  the  story  of  the  "  Clerical  Tutor, "  but  my 
annoyance  at  Blackwood's  want  of  sympathy  in  the 
first  part  (although  he  came  round  to  admiration 
at  the  third  part)  determined  me  to  close  the  series 
and  republish  them  in  two  volumes. 

Oct.  22.  —  Began  my  new  novel  "  Adam  Bede. " 
Oct.    29.  —  Eeceived    a    letter   from    Blackwood 
offering  me  £120  for  the  first  edition  of  "  Scenes  of 
Clerical  Life. " 

I  am  quite  contented  with  the  sum  (£120)  you 
offer  me  for  the  edition,  being  thoroughly  confident 
of  your  disposition  to  do  the  best  you  can  for  me. 
I  perceive  your  hope  of  success  for  the  "  Scenes  " 
is  not  strong,  and  you  certainly  have  excellent 
means  of  knowing  the  probabilities  in  such  a 
case, 

I  am  not  aware  that  the  motto  has  been  used 
before ;  but  if  you  suspect  it,  we  had  better  leave 
it  out  altogether.  A  stale  motto  would  hardly  be 
an  ornament  to  the  titlepage. 

How  I  wish  I  could  get  to  you  by  some  magic, 
and  have  one  walk  over  the  hill  with  you  again! 
Letters  are  poor  things  compared  with  five  minutes 
of  looking  and  speaking,  and  one  kiss.  Neverthe- 
less, I  do  like  to  have  a  little  letter  now  and  then, 
though  I  don't  for  a  moment  ask  it  if  you  have  no 
spontaneous  impulse  tn  give  it.  I  can't  help  los- 
ing belief  that  people  love  me,  — the  unbelief  is  in 
my  nature,  and  no  sort  of  fork  will  drive  it  finally 
out.  I  can't  help  wondering  that  you  can  think 
of  me  in  the  past  with  much  pleasure.  It  all  seems 
so  painful  to  me,  —  made  up  of  blunders  and  self- 
ishness, —  and  it  only  comes  back  upon  me  as  a 
thing  to  be  forgiven.     That  is  honest  painful  truth. 


1857.]  Progress  of  New  Story.  355 

and   not  sentimentality.     But  I  am   thankful    if 
others  found  more  good  than  I  am  able  to  remember. 

It  is  pleasant  to  have  the  first  sheet  of  one's  Letter  to 

^  ,  ^  ^  1    s!  ^^        John  Black- 

proof,  — to  see  one  s  paragraphs  released  trom  the  wood,  7th 
tight-lacing   of    double   columns,    and   expanding 
themselves  at  their  ease. 

I  perceive  clearly  the  desirableness  of  the  short 
number,  —  for  my  observation  of  literary  affairs  has 
gone  far  enough  to  convince  me  that  neither  criti- 
cal judgment  nor  practical  experience  can  guar- 
antee any  opinion  as  to  rapidity  of  sale,  in  the  case 
of  an  unknown  author ;  and  I  shudder  at  the  pros- 
pect of  encumbering  my  publishers'  bookshelves. 

My  new  story  is  in  progress,  —  slow  progress  at 
present.  A  little  sunshine  of  success  would  stimu- 
late its  growth,  I  daresay.  Unhappily,  I  am  as 
impressionable  as  I  am  obstinate,  and  as  much  in 
need  of  sympathy  from  my  readers  as  I  am  inca- 
pable of  bending  myself  to  their  tastes.  But  if  I 
can  only  find  a  public  as  cordial  and  agreeable  in 
its  treatment  of  me  as  my  editor,  I  shall  have 
nothing  to  wish.  Even  my  thin  skin  will  be 
comfortable  then.  The  page  is  not  a  shabby  one, 
after  all ;  but  I  fear  the  fact  of  two  volumes  instead 
of  three  is  a  fatal  feature  in  my  style  in  the  eyes 
of  librarians. 

One  is  glad  to  have  one's  book  {apropos  of  review  Letter  to 
of  Lewes 's  "  History  of  Philosophy  ")  spoken  well  Henneu™ 
of   by  papers    of   good   circulation,    because  it    is  issi. '*^" 
possible,  though  not  certain,  that  such  praise  may 
help  the  sale ;  but  otherwise   it  is  hardly  worth 
while  to  trouble  one's  self  about  newspaper  reviews, 
unless  they  point  out  some  error,  or  present  that 
very  rare  phenomenon,  a  true  appreciation,  which 
is  the  most  delicious  form  in  which  sympathy  can 


356 


Tolerating  the  Intolerant.         [richmond, 


Letter  to 
Mias  Sara 
Hennell, 
9th  Nov. 
1S57. 


Letter  to 
Charles 
Bray,  15th 
Nov.  1857. 


reach  one.  So  much  sectarian  feeling  usually  arises 
in  discussions  on  the  subject  of  phrenology,  that  I 
confess  the  associations  of  the  word  are  not  agree- 
able to  me.  The  last  refuge  of  intolerance  is  in 
not  tolerating  the  intolerant ;  and  I  am  often  in 
danger  of  secreting  that  sort  of  venom. 

It  is  pleasant  to  have  a  kind  word  now  and  then, 
when  one  is  not  near  enough  to  have  a  kind  glance 
or  a  hearty  shake  by  the  hand.  It  is  an  old  weak- 
ness of  mine  to  have  no  faith  in  affection  that  does 
not  express  itself ;  and  when  friends  take  no  notice 
of  me  for  a  long  while,  I  generally  settle  down  into 
the  belief  that  they  have  become  indifierent  or  have 
begun  to  dislike  me.  That  is  not  the  best  mental 
constitution;  but  it  might  be  worse,  — for  I  don't 
feel  obliged  to  dislike  them  in  consequence.  I,  for 
one,  ought  not  to  complain  if  people  think  worse 
of  me  than  I  deserve,  for  I  have  very  often  reason 
to  be  ashamed  of  my  thoughts  about  others.  They 
almost  always  turn  out  to  be  better  than  I  expected, 
—  fuller  of  kindness  towards  me  at  least.  In  the 
fundamental  doctrine  of  your  book  ("  The  Philoso- 
phy of  Necessity  "),  —  that  mind  presents  itself 
under  the  same  conditions  of  invariableness  of 
antecedent  and  consequent  as  all  other  phenomena 
(the  only  difference  being  that  the  true  antecedent 
and  consequent  are  proportionately  difficult  to  dis- 
cover as  the  phenomena  are  more  complex),  —  I 
think  you  know  that  I  agree.  And  every  one  who 
knows  what  science  means  must  also  agree  wnth 
you  that  there  can  be  no  social  science  without  the 
admission  of  that  doctrine.  I  dislike  extremely  a 
passage  in  which  you  appear  to  consider  the  disre- 
gard of  individuals  as  a  lofty  condition  of  mind. 
My  own  experience  and  development  deepen  every 


1S57.]  The  Position  of  Phrenology.  357 

day  my  conviction  that  our  moral  progress  may  be  Letter  to 
measured  by  the  degree  in  which  we  sympathise  Bray,  i5th 
with  individual  sutfering  and  individual  joy.  The 
fact  that  in  the  scheme  of  things  we  see  a  constant 
and  tremendous  sacrifice  of  individuals  is,  it  seems 
to  me,  only  one  of  the  many  proofs  that  urge  upon 
us  our  total  inability  to  find  in  our  own  natures  a 
key  to  the  Divine  mystery.  I  could  more  readily 
turn  Christian,  and  worship  Jesus  again,  than 
embrace  a  Theism  which  professes  to  explain  the 
proceedings  of  God.  But  I  don't  feel  at  all  wise 
in  these  matters.  I  have  a  few  strong  impressions 
which  serve  me  for  my  own  support  and  guidance, 
but  do  not  in  the  least  qualify  me  to  speak  as  a 
theorist. 

Mr.  Lewes  sends  you  his  kind  remembrances, 
and  will  not  like  you  any  the  worse  for  cutting 
him  up.  He  has  had  to  perform  that  office  for  his 
own  friends  sometimes.  I  suppose  phrenology  is 
an  open  question,  on  which  everybody  has  a  right 
to  speak  his  mind.  Mr.  Lewes,  feeling  the  import- 
ance of  the  subject,  desired  to  give  it  its  due  place 
in  his  "History  of  Philosophy,"  and  doing  so,  he 
must,  of  course,  say  what  he  believes  to  be  the 
truth,  not  what  other  people  believe  to  be  the  truth. 
If  you  will  show  where  he  is  mistaken,  you  will  be 
doing  him  a  service  as  well  as  phrenology.  His 
arguments  may  be  bad  ;  but  I  will  answer  for  him 
that  he  has  not  been  guilty  of  any  intentional 
unfairness.  With  regard  to  their  system,  phre- 
nologists seem  to  me  to  be  animated  by  the  same 
sort  of  spirit  as  that  of  religious  dogmatists,  and 
especially  in  this,  — 'that  in  proportion  as  a  man 
approximates  to  their  opinions  without  identifying 
himself  with  them,  they  think  him  offensive  and 


358 


Sunset  Effects. 


[RICHMOND, 


Letter  to 
Charles 
Bray,  15th 
Nov.  18S7, 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
24th  Nov. 
1857. 


Journal, 

1857. 


contemptible.  It  is  amusing  to  read  from  the  oppo- 
site side  complaints  against  Mr.  Lewes  for  giving 
too  high  a  position  to  phrenology,  and  a  confident 
opinion  that  "  phrenologists,  by  their  ridiculous 
pretensions,  merit  all  the  contempt  that  has  been 
thrown  on  them.  "  Thus  doctors  differ !  But  I  am 
much  less  interested  in  crusades  for  or  against 
phrenology  than  in  your  happiness  at  Ivy  Cottage.^ 
Happiness  means  all  sorts  of  love  and  good  feeling , 
and  that  is  the  best  result  that  can  ever  come  out 
of  science.  Do  you  know  Buckle's  "  History  of 
Civilisation  "  ?  I  think  you  would  find  it  a  sug- 
gestive book. 

Anniversaries  are  sad  things,  —  to  one  who  has 
lived  long  and  done  little.  Herbert  Spencer  dined 
with  us  the  other  day,  —  looks  well,  and  is  brim- 
ful of  clever  talk  as  usual.  His  volume  of  "  Essays  " 
is  to  come  out  soon.  He  is  just  now  on  a  crusade 
against  the  notion  of  "  species. "  We  are  reading 
Harriet  Martineau's  history  with  edification,  and 
otherwise  feeding  our  souls,  which  flourish  very 
well,  notwithstanding  November  weather. 

Nov.  28,  — A  glorious  day,  still  autumnal  and 
not  wintry.  We  have  had  a  delicious  walk  in  the 
Park,  and  I  think  the  colouring  of  the  scenery  is 
more  beautiful  than  ever.  Many  of  the  oaks  are 
still  thickly  covered  with  leaves  of  a  rich  yellow- 
brown  ;  the  elms,  golden  sometimes,  still  with  lin- 
gering patches  of  green.  On  our  way  to  the  Park 
the  view  from  Richmond  Hill  had  a  delicate  blue 
mist  over  it,  that  seemed  to  hang  like  a  veil  before 
the  sober  brownish -yellow  of  the  distant  elms. 
As  we  came  home,  the  sun  was  setting  on  a  fog- 
bank,  and  we  saw  him  sink  into  that  purple  ocean, 

1  The  Brays'  new  house  at  Coventry. 


1857.]  Increase  of  "  Clerical  Scenes."  359 


—  the  orange  and  gold  passing  into  green  above  joumai, 
the  fog-bank,  the  gold  and  orange  reflected  in  the 
river  in  more  sombre  tints.  The  other  day,  as  we 
were  coming  home  through  the  Park,  after  having 
walked  under  a  sombre,  heavily  clouded  sky,  the 
western  sun  shone  out  from  under  the  curtain,  and 
lit  up  the  trees  and  grass,  thrown  into  relief  on  a 
background  of  dark-purple  cloud.  Then,  as  we 
advanced  towards  the  Richmond  end  of  the  Park, 
the  level  reddening  rays  shone  on  the  dry  fern  and 
the  distant  oaks,  and  threw  a  crimson  light  on 
them.  I  have  especially  enjoyed  this  autumn,  the 
delicious  greenness  of  the  turf,  in  contrast  with 
the  red  and  yellow  of  the  dying  leaves. 

Dec.  6  (Sunday).  —  Finished  the  "  Agamemnon  " 
to-day.  In  the  evenings  of  late  we  have  been 
reading  Harriet  Martineau's  "  Sketch  of  the  British 
Empire  in  India,  "  and  are  now  following  it  up  with 
Macaulay's  articles  on  Olive  and  Hastings.  We 
have  lately  read  Harriet  Martineau's  Introduction 
to  the  "  History  of  the  Peace.  " 

Dec.  8.  —  I  am  reading  "  Die  Familie,  "  by  Riehl, 
forming  the  third  volume  of  the  series,  the  two 
first  of  which,  "  Land  und  Volk,"  and  "  Die  Biir- 
gerliche  Gesellschaft, "  I  reviewed  for  the  "  West- 
minster. " 

A  letter  from  Blackwood  to-day  tells  us  that 
Major  Blackwood,  during  his  brother's  absence  in 
England,  having  some  reasons,  not  specified,  for 
being  more  hopeful  about  the  "Clerical  Scenes," 
resolved  to  publish  1000  instead  of  750;  and  in 
consequence  of  this,  Blackwood  promises  to  pay 
me  an  additional  £60  when  750  shall  have  been 
sold  off.  He  reports  that  an  elderly  clergyman  has 
written  to  him  to  say  that  "  Janet's  Eepentance  " 


Letter  to 
John  Black- 
wood, lltU 
Dec.  1857. 


Letter  to 
Miss  Sara 
Hennell, 
13th  Dec. 
1857. 


360  Identity  of  George  Eliot  Susjpected.   [richmond, 

is  exquisite,  —  another  vote  to  register  along  with 
that  of  Mrs.  Nutt's  rector,  who  "  cried  over  the 
story  like  a  child. " 

Dec.  10.  — Major  Blackwood  called, — an  un- 
affected, agreeable  man.  It  was  evident  to  us, 
when  he  had  only  been  in  the  room  a  few  minutes, 
that  he  knew  I  was  George  Eliot. 

Lewes  has  read  to  me  your  last  kind  letter,  and 
I  am  not  insensible  to  the  "  practical  cheerer  "  it 
contains.  But  I  rejoice  with  trembling  at  the 
additional  250,  lest  you  should  have  to  repent  of 
them. 

I  have  certainly  had  a  good  deal  of  encourage- 
ment to  believe  that  there  are  many  minds,  both 
of  the  more  cultured  sort  and  of  the  common  novel- 
reading  class,  likely  to  be  touched  by  my  stories ; 
but  the  word  "  many  "  is  very  elastic,  and  often 
shrinks  frightfully  when  measured  by  a  financial 
standard. 

When  one  remembers  how  long  it  was  before 
Charles  Lamb's  Essays  were  known  familiarly  to 
any  but  the  elect  few,  the  very  strongest  assurance 
of  merit  or  originality — supposing  one  so  happy 
as  to  have  that  assurance  —  could  hardly  do  more 
than  give  the  hope  of  ultimate  recognition. 

Our  affairs  are  very  prosperous  just  now,  making 
sunshine  in  a  shady  or  rather  a  foggy  place.  It  is 
a  great  happiuess  to  me  that  Mr.  Lewes  gets  more 
and  more  of  the  recognition  he  deserves ;  pleasant 
letters  and  speeches  have  been  very  numerous 
lately,  especially  about  his  "  Sea-side  Studies  " 
which  have  appeared  in  "  Blackwood, "  and  are  soon 
to  appear  —  very  much  improved  and  enlarged  — 
in  a  separate  volume.  Dear  Carlyle  writes,  apropos 
of   his  "  Frederic  "  :  "  I  have  had  such  a  fourteen 


1857.]  BieliVs  "Die  FaviUie."  361 

months  as  was  never  appointed  me  before  in  this  Letter  to 
world,  —  sorrow,  darkness,  and  disgust  my  daily  Henneu™ 
companions  ;  and  no  outlook  visible,  except  getting  1857.^^°* 
a  detestable  business  turned  off,  or  else  being  driven 
mad  by  it. "  That  is  his  exaggerated  way  of  speak- 
ing ;  and  writing  is  always  painful  to  him.  Do 
you  know  he  is  sixty -two !  I  fear  this  will  be  his 
last  book.  Tell  Mr.  Bray  I  am  reading  a  book  of 
Eiehl's,  "  The  Family,"  forming  the  sequel  to  his 
other  volumes.  He  will  be  pleased  to  hear  that  so 
good  a  writer  agrees  with  him  on  several  points 
about  the  occupations  of  women.  The  book  is  a 
good  one ;  and  if  I  were  in  the  way  of  writing 
articles,  I  should  write  one  on  it.  There  is  so 
much  to  read,  and  the  days  are  so  short !  I  get 
more  hungry  for  knowledge  every  day,  and  less 
able  to  satisfy  my  hunger.  Time  is  like  the  Sibyl- 
line leaves,  getting  more  precious  the  less  there 
remains  of  it.  That,  I  believe,  is  the  correct  allu- 
sion for  a  fine  writer  to  make  on  the  occasion. 

I  give  up  the   motto,   because  it  struck  you  as  Letter  to 
having  been  used  before ;  and  though  I  copied  it  wood,  isth' 
into  my  note-book  when  I  was  re-reading  "  Amelia  "  ^^^'  ^^^' 
a  few  months  ago,  it  is  one  of  those  obvious  quota- 
tions which  never  appear  fresh,  though  they  may 
actually  be  made  for  the  first  time. 

I  shall  be  curious  to  know  the  result  of  the 
subscription. 

There  are  a  few  persons  to  whom  I  should  like 
a  copy  of  the  volume  to  be  sent,  and  I  enclose  a 
list  of  them. 

Dec.  17.  — Eead  my  new  story  to  G.  this  even-  joumai, 
ing  as  far  as  the  end  of  the  third  chapter.     He  ^^^' 
praised  it  highly.      I  have  finished  "  Die   Fami- 
lie, "  by  Eiehl,  —  a  delightful  book.     I  am  in  the 


362  Buckle  s  History.  [Richmond, 

Journal,       "  Choephorse  "  now.    In  the  evenings  we  are  reading 
1857.  «  jjig^Qj.y  Qf  ^\^Q  Thirty  Years'  Peace  "  and  Bdranger. 

Thoroughly  disappointed  in  Bdranger. 

Dec.  19  {Saturday).  — Alone  this  evening  with 
very  thankful,  solemn  thoughts,  —  feeling  the 
great  and  unhoped-for  blessings  that  have  been 
given  me  in  life.  This  last  year,  especially,  has 
been  marked  by  inward  progress  and  outward  ad- 
vantages. In  the  spring  George's  "  History  of 
Philosophy  "  appeared  in  the  new  edition ;  his 
"  Sea-side  Studies  "  have  been  written  with  much 
enjoyment,  and  met  with  much  admiration,  and 
now  they  are  on  the  verge  of  being  published  with 
bright  prospects.  Blackwood  has  also  accepted 
his  "  Physiology  of  Common  Life  ;  "  the  "  Goethe  " 
has  passed  into  its  third  German  edition ;  and  best 
of  all,  G.  's  head  is  well.  I  have  written  the 
"Scenes  of  Clerical  Life,"  —  my  first  book;  and 
though  we  are  uncertain  still  whether  it  will  be  a 
success  as  a  separate  publication,  I  have  had  much 
sympathy  from  my  readers  in  "  Blackwood,"  and 
feel  a  deep  satisfaction  in  having  done  a  bit  of 
faithful  work  that  will  perhaps  remain  like  a 
primrose  root  in  the  hedgerow,  and  gladden  an(i 
chasten  human  hearts  in  years  to  come. 
Letter  to  the  Bucklc's  is  a  book  full  of  suggcstivc  material^ 
Dec.  1857.  though  there  are  some  strangely  unphilosophi.j 
opinions  mixed  with  its  hardy  philosophy.  Fcv 
example,  he  holds  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
race  or  hereditary  transmission  of  qualities !  (I 
should  tell  you,  at  the  same  time,  that  he  is  a 
necessitarian  and  a  physiological-psychologist).  It 
is  only  by  such  negations  as  these  that  he  can  find 
his  way  to  the  position  which  he  maintains  at 
great  length,  —  that  the  progress  of   mankind    is 


1857.]  Review  of  Year  1857.  363 

dependent  entirely  on  the  progress  of  knowledge, 
and  that  there  has  been  no  intrinsically  moral 
advance.  However,  he  presents  that  side  of  the 
subject  which  has  perhaps  been  least  adequately 
dwelt  on. 

Dec.  25  {Christmas  Day).  —  George  and  I  spent  journal, 
this  lovely  day  together,  —  lovely  as  a  clear  spring  ^  '" 
day.     We  could  see  Hampstead  from  the  Park  so 
distinctly  that  it  seemed    to  have  suddenly  come 
nearer  to  us.      We  ate   our  turkey  together  in  a 
happy  solitude  a  deux. 

Dec.  31  {the  last  night  of  1857).  —  The  dear  old 
year  is  gone,  with  all  its  Weben  and  Strehen.  Yet 
not  gone  either :  for  what  I  have  suffered  and  en- 
joyed in  it  remains  to  me  an  everlasting  possession 
while  my  soul's  life  remains.  This  time  last  year 
I  was  alone,  as  I  am  now,  and  dear  George  was  at 
Vernon  Hill.  I  was  writing  the  introduction  to 
"Mr.  Gilfil's  Love-Story."  What  a  world  of 
thoughts  and  feelings  since  then !  My  life  has 
deepened  unspeakably  during  the  last  year :  I  feel 
a  greater  capacity  for  moral  and  intellectual  enjoy- 
ment ;  a  more  acute  sense  of  my  deficiencies  in  the 
past ;  a  more  solemn  desire  to  be  faithful  to  coming 
duties  than  I  remember  at  any  former  period  of  my 
life.  And  my  happiness  has  deepened  too :  the 
blessedness  of  a  perfect  love  and  union  grows  daily. 
I  have  had  some  severe  suffering  this  year  from 
anxiety  about  my  sister,  and  what  will  probably 
be  a  final  separation  from  her,  — there  has  been  no 
other  real  trouble.  Few  women,  I  fear,  have  had 
such  reason  as  I  have  to  think  the  long  sad  years 
of  youth  were  worth  living  for  the  sake  of  middle 
age.  Our  prospects  are  very  bright  too.  I  am 
writing  my  new  novel.     G.  is  full  of  his  "  Physi- 


364  Review  of  Year  1857.         [richmond, 

Journal,  ology  of  Common  Life. "  He  has  just  finished 
editing  Johnston,  for  which  he  is  to  have  100 
guineas,  and  we  have  both  encouragement  to  think 
that  our  books  just  coming  out,  "  Sea-side  Stud- 
ies "  and  "Scenes  of  Clerical  Life,"  will  be  well 
received.  So  good-bye,  dear  1857 !  May  I  be  able 
to  look  back  on  1858  with  an  equal  consciousness 
of  advancement  in  work  and  iu  heart ! 


1855-57.]        Summary  of  Chajpter  VII.  365 


SUMMARY. 

MARCH,   1855,    TO   DECEMBER,  1857. 

Return  to  England  —  Dover  —  Bayswater  —  East    Sheen  — 

Books  read  —  Articles  written  —  Letters  to  Miss  Hennell —  "  Life 
of  Goethe  "  —  Fronde's  article  on  Spinoza  —  Article  writing  — 
"  Cummiug  " —  8  Park  Shot,  Richmond  —  Letter  to  Charles  Bray 

—  Effect  of  article  on  Cummiug  —  Letter  to  Miss  Hennell  — 
Reading  on  Physiology  —  Article  on  Heine  —  Review  for 
"Leader,"  &c. — Books  read — Visit  to  Mrs.  Clarke  at  Attleboro 

Sale  of  "  Life  of  Goethe  "  —  "  Shaving  of  Shagpat "  —  Spinoza's 

"  Ethics,"  translation  finished  —  The  "  Saturday  Review "  — 
Ruskin  —  Alison  —  Harriet  Martineau  —  VV  omen's  earnings  — 
Articles  and  reviews  —  Wishes  uot  to  be  known  as  translator  of  the 
"  Ethics  "  —  Article  on  Young  begun  —  Visit  to  llfracorabe  — 
Description  —  Zoophyte  hunting  —  Finished  articles  on  Young 
and  Riehl — Naturalistic  experience  —  Delightful  walks  —  Rev. 
Mr.  Tugwell  —  Devonshire  lanes  and  springs  —  Tendency  to 
scientific  accuracy  —  Sunsets  —  Cocklewomen  at  Swansea  — 
Letters  to  Miss  Hennell  and  Mrs.  Peter  Taylor  —  Tenby  —  Zoology 

—  Thoreau's  "  Walden  "  —  Feeling  strong  in  mind  and  body  —  Bar- 
bara Leigh  Smith  comes  to  Tenby  —  George  Eliot  anxious  to  begin 
her  fiction  writing  — Mr.  E.  F.  S.  Pigott  —  Return  to  Richmond 
— Mr.  Lewes  takes  his  boys  to  Hofwyl  —  George  Eliot  writes 
article  on  "  Silly  Novels  by  Lady  Novelists  "  —  "  How  I  came  to 
write  fiction "  —  Correspondence  between  Mr.  Lewes  and  Mr. 
John  Blackwood  about  MS.  of  '-Amos  Barton"  — "Mr.  Gilfil's 
Love-Story  "  begun  —  Books  read  —  Letter  from  John  Blackwood 
to  the  author  of  "Amos  Barton,"  sending  copy  of  the  January, 
1857,  number  of  the  Magazine  and  fifty  guineas  —  Reply  —  Black- 
wood's admiration  —  Albert  Smith's  appreciation  —  Letters  to 
Blackwood  —  Name  of  George  Eliot  assumed  —  Dutch  school  in 
art  —  Artistic  bent  —  Letter  to  Miss  Hennell  —  Intolerance  — 
Letter  to  John  Blackwood  on  Mr.  Swayne  comparing  writing  to 
Goldsmith's  —  Letter  to  Miss  Hennell  on  essay,  "  Christianity  and 
Infidelity  "  —  Letter  to  Blackwood  —  Caterina  and  the  dagger  scene 

—  Trip  to  Penzance  and  the  Scilly  Isles  —  Description  of  St.  Mary's 

—  Mr.  Moyle,  the  surgeon  —  Social  life  —  Letter  to  Mrs.  Bray  — 
Anxiety  about  sister  —  Letter  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell  —  "  Life  of 
Charlotte  Bronte  "  —  Letter  to  Isaac  P.  Ev.ins  —  IMrs.  Clarke's 
illness  —  Letter  to  Blackwood  —  Conclusions  of  stories  —  Jersey 


366  Summary  of  Chapter  VII.       [1855-57.] 

—  Description  of  Gorey  —  Delightful  walks  —  Reading  Draper's 
"  Physiology  "  —  Miss  Catlow  and  Dr.  Thomson  on  wild  flowers 

—  "  Life  of  George  Stephenson  "  —  Letter  to  Miss  Ilennell  —  Life 
in  Jersey  —  Liggins  appears  on  the  scene  —  "  Janet's  Repentance  " 

—  Series  attributed  to  Bulwer  —  Thackeray  thinks   highly  of  it 

—  Letter  from  Herbert  Spencer  about  "  Mr.  Gilfil  "  —  Letter  from 
Archer  Gurney  —  Lord  Stanley  thinks   highly  of  the  "  Scenes  " 

—  Letter  to  Blackwood,  with  first  part  of  "  Janet's  Repentance  " 

—  Letter  to  Mrs.  Bray  —  Richmond  —  Expression  of  face  — 
Letter  to  Mrs.  John  Cash  —  Happiness  in  her  life  and  hope  in  her 
work  —  Chilled  by  Blackwood's  want  of  enthusiasm  about  "  Janet  " 

—  Letter  to  John  Blackwood  on  "  Janet  "  —  Letter  to  Miss  Sara 
Hennell  —  "  Aurora  Leigh  "  —  Return  to  Richmond  —  Letter  to 
John  Blackwood  on  "  Janet "  —  Letters  to  Miss  Hennell  —  Rosa 
Bonheur  —  Thought,  not  action  —  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Call  —  Letter  to 
John  Blackwood  —  Haunted  by  new  story  —  Letter  to  Charles 
Bray  —  The  "  Woman  Question  "—  Close  of  "  Clerical  Scenes  " 
series  —  "Adam  Bede  "  begun — Receives  £120  for  first  edition 
of  "  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  "  —  Letter  to  Mrs.  Bray  —  Unbelief  in 
people's  love  —  Letter  to  John  BlackAvood —  Sheets  of  "  Cleri- 
cal Scenes  "  —  Letter  to  Miss  Hennell  —  Newspaper  criticism  — 
Letter  to  Charles  Bray  — "  The  Philosophy  of  Necessity  "  — 
Sympathy  with   individuals  —  Objection  to  Theism  —  Phrenology 

—  Happiness  the  best  result  that  can  ever  come  out  of  science  — 
Letters  to  Miss  Hennell  —  Reading  Riehl's  "  The  Family  "  — 
Hunger   for   knowledge  —  Buckle's   "  History    of    Civilisation  " 

—  Autumn    days    at  Richmond  —  Reading  the  "  Agamemnon  " 

—  Harriet  Martineau's  "  Sketch  of  the  British  Empire  in  India  " 

—  Macaulay's  essays  on  Clive  and  Hastings  —  Major  Blackwood 
calls,  and  suspects  identity  of  George  Eliot  —  Reading  the 
"  Choephorffi  "  —  "  History  of  the  Thirty  Years'  Peace,"  and 
Beranger —  Thankfulness  in  reviewing  experience  of  1857. 


APPENDIX. 


As  this  volume  is  going  through  the  press,  I  have 
to  thank  Mrs.  John  Cash  of  Coventry  for  the 
following  valuable  additional  information  in  regard 
to  the  important  subject  of  Miss  Evans's  change  of 
religious  belief  in  1841-42,  and  for  her  further 
general  recollections  of  the  Coventry  period  of 
George  Eliot's  life:  — 


'o^ 


I  was  sixteen  years  of  age  in  1841 ;  and,  as  I 
have  already  stated,  my  first  remembrance  of  Miss 
Evans  is  of  her  call  on  my  father  and  mother,  with 
their  friend  and  neighbour  Mrs.  Pears,  when  in 
conversation  she  gave  expression  to  her  great  appre- 
ciation of  the  writings  of  Isaac  Taylor.  The  con- 
troversy raised  by  the  "Tracts  for  the  Times," 
which  gave  occasion  for  the  publication  of  Mr. 
Taylor's  "Ancient  Christianity,"  being  now  re- 
mote, I  give  the  following  extract  from  a  footnote 
in  Trench's  "  Notes  on  the  Parables,"  to  show  the 
influence  such  a  work  as  Mr.  Taylor's  would  be 
likely  to  exercise  on  the  mind  of  one  who  esteemed 
its  author ;  and  also  the  feeling  it  excited  against 
an  eminently  religious  man,  by  revelations  which 
he  desired  and  believed  would  serve  the  cause  of 
New  Testament  Christianity.  The  note  is  on  the 
"  Tares.  "  The  quotation,  containing  the  reference, 
is  from  Menken. 


368  Appendix. 

"  Many  so-called  Church  historians  {authors  of 
"  Ancient  Christianitij  "  and  the  like),  ignorant  of  the 
purpose  and  of  the  hidden  glory  of  the  Church, 
have  their  pleasure  in  the  Tares,  and  imagine  them- 
selves wonderfully  vi^ise  and  useful  when  out  of 
Church  history  (which  ought  to  be  the  history  of 
the  Light  and  the  Truth)  they  have  made  a  shame- 
ful history  of  error  and  wickedness. " 

It  was  upon  her  first  or  second  interview  with 
my  mother  that  Miss  Evans  told  her  how  shocked 
she  had  been  by  the  apparent  union  of  religious 
feeling  with  a  low  sense  of  morality  among  the 
people  in  the  district  she  visited,  who  were  mostly 
Methodists.  She  gave  as  an  instance  the  case  of 
a  woman,  who,  when  a  falsehood  was  clearly 
brought  home  to  her  by  her  visitors,  said,  "  She  did 
not  feel  that  she  had  grieved  the  Spirit  much.  " 
Now  those  readers  of  the  letters  to  Miss  Lewis  who 
are  acquainted  with  modern  Evangelicalism,  even 
in  its  "  after-glow, "  especially  as  it  was  presented 
to  the  world  by  Church  of  England  teaching  and 
practice,  will  recognise  its  characteristics  in  the 
moral  scrupulousness,  the  sense  of  obligation  on 
the  part  of  Christians  to  avoid  the  very  appearance 
of  evil,  the  practical  piety  which  those  letters 
reveal. 

Mrs.  Evans  (Miss  Lewis  tells  me)  was  a  very 
serious,  earnest-minded  woman,  anxiously  con- 
cerned for  the  moral  and  religious  training  of  her 
children ;  glad  to  place  them  under  the  care  of 
such  persons  as  the  Misses  Franklin,  to  whose 
school  a  mother  of  a  different  order  objected,  on  the 
ground  that  "  it  was  where  that  saint  Mary  Ann 
Evans  had  been. " 

It  is  natural,    then,   that,    early  awed   by  and 


Appendix.  369 

attracted  towards  beliefs  cherished  by  the  best 
persons  she  had  known,  and  advocated  in  the  best 
books  she  had  read,  the  mind  of  Miss  Evans  should 
have  been  stirred  by  exhibitions  of  a  theoretic  sever- 
ance of  religion  from  morality,  whether  presented 
among  the  disciples  of  "  Ancient  Christianity  "  or 
by  the  subjects  of  its  modern  revivals :  it  is  prob- 
able that  she  may  thereby  have  been  led,  as  others 
have  been,  to  a  reconsideration  of  the  creeds  of 
Christendom,  and  to  further  inquiry  concerning 
their  origin. 

On  the  same  grounds  it  is  likely  that  the  pres- 
entation of  social  virtues,  apart  from  evangelical 
motives,  would  impress  her;  and  I  have  authority 
for  stating  that  to  the  inquiry  of  a  friend  in  after 
years,  as  to  what  influence  she  attributed  the  first 
unsettlement  of  her  orthodox  views,  she  quickly 
made  answer:  "  Oh,  Walter  Scott's."  Now  I  well 
remember  her  speaking  to  me  of  Robert  Hall's  con- 
fession that  he  had  been  made  unhappy  for  a  week 
by  the  reading  of  Miss  Edgeworth's  Tales,  in  which 
useful,  good,  and  pleasant  lives  are  lived  with  no 
reference  to  religious  hopes  and  fears ;  and  her 
drawing  my  attention  to  the  real  greatness  of  mind 
and  sincerity  of  faith  which  this  candid  confession 
betokened.  Such  remarks,  I  think,  throw  light 
upon  the  way  in  which  her  own  evangelical  belief 
had  been  affected  by  works  in  which  its  dogmas 
are  not  enforced  as  necessary  springs  of  virtuous 
action. 

I  give  these  scattered  reminiscences,  in  evidence 
of  the  half-unconscious  preparation  (of  which  Mr. 
Cross  speaks),  for  a  change  which  was,  in  my  judg- 
ment, more  gradual  in  its  development,  as  well  as 
deeper  in  its  character,  than  might  be  inferred  from 

VOL.  I.  —  24 


370  Appendix. 

the  record  of  its  abrupt  following  upon  Miss  Evans's 
introduction  to  Mr.  Hennell's  "  Inquiry  concerning 
the  Origin  of  Christianity. " 

The  evening's  discussion  with  my  father,  to 
which  I  have  referred  in  my  previous  communica- 
tion in  the  "  Life, "  is  now  vividly  present  to  my 
mind.  There  was  not  only  on  her  part  a  vehe- 
mence of  tone,  startling  in  one  so  quiet,  but  a 
crudeness  in  her  objections,  an  absence  of  proposed 
solution  of  difficulties,  which  partly  distressed  and 
partly  pleased  me  (siding  as  I  did  mentally  with 
my  father),  and  which  was  in  strange  contrast  to 
the  satisfied  calm  which  marked  her  subsequent 
treatment  of  religious  differences. 

Upon  my  father's  using  an  argument  (common 
enough  in  those  days)  drawn  from  the  present  con- 
dition of  the  Jews  as  a  fulfilment  of  prophecy,  and 
saying,  "  If  I  were  tempted  to  doubt  the  truth  of 
the  Bible,  I  should  only  have  to  look  at  a  Jew  to 
confirm  my  faith  in  it,"  "  Don't  talk  tome  of  the 
Jews !  "  Miss  Evans  retorted,  in  an  irritated  tone ; 
"  to  think  that  they  were  deluded  into  expectations 
of  a  temporal  deliverer,  and  then  punished  because 
they  could  n't  understand  that  it  was  a  spiritual 
deliverer  that  was  intended  !  "  To  something  that 
followed  from  her,  intimating  the  claim  of  creatures 
upon  their  Creator,  my  father  objected,  "  But  we 
have  no  claim  upon  God.  "  "  No  claim  upon  God  !  " 
she  reiterated  indignantly ;  "  we  have  the  strongest 
possible  claim  upon  Him.  " 

I  regret  that  I  can  recall  nothing  more  of  a  con- 
versation carried  on  for  more  than  two  hours ;  but 
I  vividly  remember  how  deeply  Miss  Evans  was 
moved,  and  how,  as  she  stood  against  the  mantel- 
piece during  the  last  part  of  the  time,  her  delicate 


Apjpendix.  371 

fingers,  in  which  she  held  a  small  piece  of  muslin 
on  which  she  was  at  work,  trembled  with  her 
agitation. 

The  impression  allowed  to  remain  upon  the  minds 
of  her  friends,  for  some  time  after  she  had  made 
declaration  of  her  heresies,  was  of  her  being  in  a 
troubled,  unsettled  state.  So  great  were  her  sim- 
plicity and  candour  in  acknowledging  this,  and  so 
apparent  was  her  earnest  desire  for  truth,  that  no 
hesitation  was  felt  in  asking  her  to  receive  visits 
from  persons  of  different  persuasions,  who  were 
judged  competent  to  bring  forward  the  best  argu- 
ments in  favour  of  orthodox  doctrines.  One  of 
these  was  a  Baptist  minister,  introduced  to  her  by 
Miss  Franklin :  he  was  said  to  be  well  read  in 
divinity,  and  I  remember  him  as  an  original  and 
interesting  preacher.  After  an  interview  with 
Miss  Evans,  meeting  my  father,  he  said :  "  That 
young  lady  must  have  had  the  devil  at  her  elbow 
to  suggest  her  doubts,  for  there  was  not  a  book  that 
I  recommended  to  her  in  support  of  Christian  evi- 
dences that  she  had  not  read.  " 

Mr.  Watts,  one  of  the  professors  at  Spring  Hill 
College  (Independent),  Birmingham,  a  colleague 
of  Mr.  Henry  Eogers,  author  of  the  "  Eclipse  of 
Faith, "  and  who  had  himself  studied  at  the  Halld 
University,  and  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  Dr. 
Tholiick,  was  requested  (I  think  by  my  mother)  to 
call  on  Miss  Evans.  His  acquaintance  with  Ger- 
man nationalism  (rare  in  England  in  those  days) 
qualified  him  to  enter  into,  and  it  was  hoped  to 
meet,  difficulties  raised  by  a  critical  study  of  the 
New  Testament.  After  his  first  or  second  inter- 
view, my  brother  remembers  his  observing  with 
emphasis,  "  She  has  gone  into  the  question ;  "  and 


372  Ap2>endix. 

I  can  recall  a  reference  made  by  him  at  a  later  date 
in  my  hearing  to  Miss  Evans's  discontent  with  her 
own  solutions,  —  or  rather  with  her  own  stand- 
point at  that  time.  This  discontent  he  said  "  was 
so  far  satisfactory. "  Doubtless  it  gave  him  hope 
of  the  reconversion  of  one  who  had,  as  he  told  my 
mother,  awakened  deep  interest  in  his  own  mind, 
as  much  by  the  earnestness  which  characterised 
her  inquiries  as  by  her  exceptional  attainments. 

From  letters  that  passed  between  my  brother  and 
myself  during  his  residence  in  Germany,  I  give  the 
following  extracts  referring  to  this  period. 

The  first  is  from  one  of  mine,  dated  September  2, 
1842. 

"  In  my  father's  absence  we  (my  mother  and  I) 
called  on  Miss  Evans.  She  now  takes  up  a  difi'er- 
ent  position.  Her  views  are  not  altogether  altered, 
but  she  says  it  would  be  extreme  arrogance  in  so 
young  a  person  to  suppose  she  had  obtained  yet  any 
just  ideas  of  truth.  She  had  been  reading  Dr. 
Tholiick's  reply  to  Strauss's  'Life  of  Jesus,'  but 
said  Mr.  Watts  had  advised  her  not  to  read  his 
'  Guido  and  Julius. '  " 

In  answer  to  this  my  brother  says,  in  a  letter 
dated,  Halld,  September  26,  1842:  "You  have 
given,  doubtless,  a  very  accurate  account  of  Miss 
Evans's  mode  of  stating  her  present  sentiments. 
Mr.  Watts 's  reason  for  advising  that  Dr.  Tholiick's 
'  Guido  and  Julius'  be  not  read  is,  perhaps,  that 
the  reasoning  is  not  satisfactory. " 

In  another  letter,  addressed  to  my  brother  at 
Halld,  and  dated  October  28,  1842, 'l  tell  him: 
"  Last  week  mother  and  I  spent  an  evening  with 
Miss  Evans.  She  seems  more  settled  in  her  views 
than  ever,  and  rests  her  objections  to  Christianity 


Appendix.  373 

on  this  ground,  that  Calvinism  is  Christianity,  and, 
jhis  granted,  that  it  is  a  religion  based  on  pure  self- 
ishness. She  occupied,  however,  a  great  part  of 
the  time  in  pleading  for  works  of  imagination, 
maintaining  that  they  perform  an  office  for  the 
mind  which  nothing  else  can.  On  the  mention  of 
Shakspeare,  she  praised  him  with  her  character- 
istic ardour,  was  shocked  at  the  idea  that  mother 
should  disapprove  the  perusal  of  his  writings,  and 
quite  distressed  lest,  through  her  influence,  I 
should  be  prevented  from  reading  them.  She  could 
be  content  were  she  allowed  no  other  book  than 
Shakspeare ;  and  in  educating  a  child,  this  would 
be  the  first  book  she  would  place  in  its  hands. 

"  She  seems  to  have  read  a  great  deal  of  Italian 
literature,  and  speaks  with  rapture  of  Metastasio's 
novels.  She  has  lent  me  '  Le  mie  Prigioni  '  di 
Silvio  Pellico,  in  his  own  tongue,  as  a  book  to 
begin  with.  She  says  there  is  a  prevailing  but 
very  mistaken  idea  that  Italian  is  an  easy  language, 
though  she  is  exceedingly  delighted  with  it.  If  at 
any  time  I  wish  to  begin  German,  she  would  very 
much  like  to  give  me  some  instruction. " 

In  addition  to  the  above  relating  to  Shakspeare, 
I  recall  the  protest  that  my  mother's  objection  to 
his  plays  (my  mother  had  been  an  ardent  lover  of 
"  the  play  "),  on  the  ground  that  there  were  things 
in  them  that  offended  her,  was  as  reasonable  as  the 
objection  to  walk  in  a  beautiful  garden,  "  because 
toads  and  weeds  are  to  be  found  in  it.  " 

In  a  letter  dated  March  6,  1843,  I  write  to  my 
brother  :  "  Your  request  that  you  may  be  informed 
as  to  the  precise  nature  of  Miss  Evans's  philo- 
sophical views,  I  shall  find  it  very  difficult  to  com- 
ply with,  inasmuch  as  on  our  last  interview  she  did 


374  Appendix. 

not  express  herself  so  fully  on  tliis  subject  as  for- 
merly ;  indeed  I  believe  she  is  not  now  so  desirous 
of  controversy.  She  however  appeared,  to  me  at 
least,  to  have  rather  changed  her  ground  on  some 
points.  For  instance,  she  said  she  considered 
Jesus  Christ  as  the  embodiment  of  perfect  love, 
and  seemed  to  be  leaning  slightly  to  the  doctrines 
of  Carlyle  and  Emerson  when  she  remarked  that 
she  considered  the  Bible  a  revelation  in  a  certain 
sense,  as  she  considered  herself  a  revelation  of  the 
mind  of  Deity,  &c.  She  was  very  anxious  to  know 
if  you  had  heard  Schelling.  " 

In  a  letter  addressed  to  my  brother  at  Spring 
Hill  College,  and  dated  October  28,  1844,  I  find 
this  reference  to  Dr.  Harris,  who  had  been  preach- 
ing a  charity  sermon  in  a  chapel  at  Foleshill. 

"  Miss  Evans  has  just  been  reproaching  me  for 
not  informing  her  of  Dr.  Harris's  preaching,  which 
she  would  have  given  anything  to  hear,  as  she 
says  his  '  Great  Teacher  '  left  more  delightful 
impressions  on  her  mind  than  anything  she  ever 
read,  and  is,  she  thinks,  the  best  book  that  could 
be  written  by  a  man  holding  his  principles. " 

In  the  same  letter  I  mention  a  second  lesson  in 
German  given  me  by  Miss  Evans.  In  one  written 
some  time  before,  I  tell  my  brother  of  her  kind 
proposal,  but  add  that  my  parents  object  "  on 
account  of  her  dangerous  sentiments. "  She  had, 
however,  since  called  at  our  house  one  morning  to 
renew  it ;  and  I  well  remember  how  eagerly  I 
watched  my  mother,  looking  so  affectionately  at 
Miss  Evans,  and  saying  quietly,  "  You  know,  with 
your  superior  intellect,  I  cannot  help  fearing  you 
might  influence  Mary,  though  you  might  not  intend 
to  do  so.     But,"  she  went  on  to  say,  "her  father 


Ap;pendix.  375 

does  not  agree  with  me  :  he  does  not  see  any  danger, 
and  thinks  we  ought  not  to  refuse,  as  it  is  so  very 
kind  of  you  to  be  willing  to  take  the  trouble,  — 
and  we  know  it  would  be  a  great  advantage  to  her 
to  learn  German ;  for  she  will  probably  have  to 
earn  her  living  by  teacliing. "  Seeing  at  a  glance 
how  matters  stood.  Miss  Evans  turned  round 
quickly  to  me,  and  said,  "  Come  on  Saturday  at 
three  o'clock,  and  bring  what  books  you  have. " 

So  I  went,  and  began  "  Don  Carlos,"  continuing 
to  go,  with  some  intervals  occasioned  by  absence, 
pretty  regularly  on  Saturday  afternoons,  for  nearly 
two  years ;  but  it  was  not  until  the  end  of  the 
second  year,  when  I  received  Miss  Evans's  sugges- 
tion that  the  lessons  were  no  longer  necessary  and 
should  be  discontinued,  that  I  fully  realised  what 
this  companionship  had  been  to  me.  The  loss  was 
like  the  loss  of  sunshine. 

No  promise  had  been  given  that  my  religious 
belief  should  be  undisturbed,  nor  was  any  needed. 
Interest  was  turned  aside  from  Calvinism  and 
Arminianism,  which  at  an  early  age  had  engaged 
my  attention,  towards  manifestations  of  nobility 
of  character,  and  sympathy  with  human  struggles 
and  sufferings  under  varied  conditions.  The  char- 
acter of  the  "  Marquis  von  Posa  "  (in  "  Don  Carlos  ") 
roused  an  enthusiasm  for  heroism  and  virtue, 
which  it  was  delightful  to  express  to  one  who  so 
fully  shared  it.  Placing  together  one  day  the 
works  of  Schiller,  which  were  in  two  or  three 
volumes,  Miss  Evans  said,  "  Oh,  if  I  had  given 
these  to  the  world,  how  happy  I  should  be ! " 

It  must  have  been  to  confirm  myself  in  my  tra- 
ditional faith  by  confession  of  it,  that  I  once  took 
upon  myself  to  say  to  her  how  sure  I  was  that 


376  Appendix. 

there  could  be  no  true  morality  without  evangelical 
belief.  "  Oh,  it  is  so,  is  it  ?  "  she  said,  with  the 
kindest  smile,  and  nothing  further  passed.  From 
time  to  time,  however,  her  reverence  and  affection 
for  the  character  of  Christ  and  the  Apostle  Paul, 
and  her  sympathy  with  genuine  religious  feeling, 
were  very  clear  to  me.  Expressing  one  day  her 
horror  of  a  crowd,  she  said,  "  I  never  would  press 
through  one,  unless  it  were  to  see  a  second  Jesus." 
The  words  startled  me,  —  the  conception  of  Jesus 
Christ  in  my  mind  being  so  little  associated  with 
a  human  form;  but  they  impressed  me  with  a  cer- 
tain reality  of  feeling  which  I  contrasted,  as  I  did 
Miss  Evans's  abiding  interest  in  great  principles, 
with  the  somewhat  factitious  and  occasional  as 
well  as  fitful  affection  and  concern  manifest  in 
many  whom  I  looked  up  to  as  "  converted  "  people. 

Once  only  do  I  remember  such  contrast  being 
made  by  herself.  She  attended  the  service  at  the 
opening  of  a  new  church  at  Foleshill  with  her 
father,  and  remarked  to  me  the  next  day,  that 
looking  at  the  gaily  dressed  people,  she  could  not 
help  thinking  how  much  easier  life  would  be  to 
her,  and  how  much  better  she  should  stand  in  the 
estimation  of  her  neighbours,  if  only  she  could  take 
things  as  they  did,  be  satisfied  with  outside  pleas- 
ures, and  conform  to  the  popular  beliefs  without 
any  reflection  or  examination.  Once,  too,  after 
being  in  the  company  of  educated  persons  "  pro- 
fessing and  calling  themselves  Christians,"  she 
commented  to  me  on  the  tone  of  conversation, 
often  frivolous,  sometimes  ill-natured,  that  seemed 
yet  to  excite  in  no  one  any  sense  of  impropriety. 

It  must  have  been  in  those  early  days  that  she 
spoke  to  me  of  a  visit  from  one  of  her  uncles  in 


Appendix.  377 

Derbyshire,  a  Wesleyan,  and  how  much  she  had 
enjoyed  talking  with  him,  finding  she  could  enter 
into  his  feelings  so  much  better  than  she  had  done 
in  past  times,  when  her  views  seemed  more  in 
accordance  with  his  own,  but  were  really  less  so. 

Amongst  other  books,  I  remember  the  "  Life  of 
Dr.  Arnold  "  interested  her  deeply.  Speaking  of 
it  to  me  one  morning,  she  referred  to  a  conversation 
she  had  had  with  a  friend  the  evening  before,  and 
said  they  had  agreed  that  it  was  a  great  good  for 
such  men  to  remain  within  the  pale  of  orthodoxy, 
that  so  they  might  draw  from  the  old  doctrines  the 
best  that  was  to  be  got  from  them. 

Of  criticisms  on  German  books  read  with  Miss 
Evans,  I  recall  one  or  two.  In  the  "  Robbers, "  she 
criticised  the  attempt  to  enhance  the  horror  of  the 
situation  of  the  abandoned  father,  by  details  of 
physical  wretchedness,  as  a  mistake  in  Art. 
"  Wallenstein  "  she  ranked  higher  from  an  intel- 
lectual point  of  view  than  any  other  work  of 
Schiller's.  The  talk  of  the  soldiers  in  the  "  Lager  " 
she  pointed  out  to  me  as  "  just  what  it  would  be. " 
On  my  faint  response,  "  I  suppose  it  is !  "  she  re- 
turned, "  No,  you  do  not  suppose,  —  we  Tcnovj  these 
things ;  "  and  then  gave  me  a  specimen  of  what 
might  be  a  navvy's  talk,  —  "  The  sort  of  thing  such 
people  say  is,  '  I'll  break  off  your  arm,  and  bloody 
your  face  with  the  stump. '  " 

Mrs.  Bray  tells  the  following  incident,  as  show- 
ing her  quick  perception  of  excellence  from  a  new 
and  unknown  source.  "  We  were  sittinc^  "  Mrs 
Bray  says,  "  one  summer  afternoon  on  the  lawn  at 
Eosehill,  July,  1850,  when  Marian  came  running 
to  us  from  the  house  with  the  '  Leader  '  newspaper 
in  her  hand.     *  Here  is  a  new  poet  come  into  the 


378  Appendix. 

world !  '  she  exclaimed,  and  sitting  down  with  us 
she  read  from  the  '  Leader  the  poem  called  '  Hymn  ' 
signed  M. ,  and  ending  with  the  fine  stanza,  — 

"  '  When  I  have  passed  a  nobler  life  iu  sorrow  ; 

Have  seen  rude  masses  grow  to  fulgent  spheres ; 
Seen  how  To-day  is  father  of  To-morrow, 
And  how  the  Ages  justify  the  Years, 

I  praise  Thee,  God.' 

"  The  '  Hymn  '  is  now  reprinted  in  Mr.  W.  M.  W. 
Call's  volume  of  collected  poems,  called  '  Golden 
Histories. '  " 

Kingsley's  "  Saint's  Tragedy  "  was  not  so  popular 
as  his  other  works,  but  Miss  Evans  was  deeply 
moved  by  it.  Putting  it  into  my  hands  one  morn- 
ing, she  said,  "  There,  read  it,  —  yoii  will  care  for 
it." 

The  Life  of  "Jean  Paul  Eichter, "  published  in 
the  Catholic  Series  (in  which  the  head  of  Christ, 
by  De  la  Eoche,  so  dear  to  her,  figures  as  a  vig- 
nette), was  read  and  talked  of  with  great  interest, 
as  was  his  "  Flower,  Fruit,  and  Thorn  Pieces, " 
translated  by  the  late  Mr.  Edward  Noel  of  Hamp- 
stead.  Choice  little  bits  of  humour  from  the  latter 
she  greatly  enjoyed. 

Margaret  Fuller's  "  Woman  in  the  Nineteenth 
Century,"  I  think  Miss  Evans  gave  to  me.  I 
know  it  interested  her,  as  did  "  Emerson's  Essays.  " 
On  his  visit  to  Coventry,  we  could  not,  unfortu- 
nately, accept  Mr.  Bray's  kind  invitation  to  meet 
him  at  Eosehill ;  but  after  he  had  left.  Miss  Evans 
soon  came  up  kindly  to  give  us  her  impressions  of 
him  while  they  were  fresh  in  her  memory.  She 
told  us  he  had  asked  her  what  had  first  awakened 
her  to  deep  reflection,  and  when  she  answered, 
"  Eousseau's  Confessions,"  he  remarked  that  this 


Appendix.  iJ79 

was  very  interesting,  inasmuch  as  Carlyle  had  told 
him  that  very  book  had  had  the  same  effect  upon 
his  mind.  As  /heard  Emerson's  remark  after  his 
interviews  with  Miss  Evans,  it  was,  "  That  young 
lady  has  a  calm,  clear  spirit.  "  Intercourse,  it  will 
be  seen,  was  kept  up  with  my  family,  otherwise 
than  through  the  lessons,  by  calls,  and  in  little 
gatherings  of  friends  in  evenings,  when  we  were 
favoured  to  hear  Miss  Evans  sing.  Her  voice  was 
not  strong,  and  I  think  she  preferred  playing  on 
the  piano;  but  her  low  notes  were  eti'ective,  and 
there  was  always  an  elevation  in  the  rendering. 

As  I  knew  Miss  Evans,  no  one  escaped  her 
notice.  In  her  treatment  of  servants,  for  instance, 
she  was  most  considerate.  "They  come  to  me," 
she  used  to  say,  "  with  all  their  troubles, "  as 
indeed  did  her  friends  generally,  — sometimes,  she 
would  confess,  to  an  extent  that  quite  oppressed 
her.  When  any  object  of  charity  came  under  her 
notice,  and  power  to  help  was  within  her  reach, 
she  was  very  prompt  in  rendering  it.  Our  ser- 
vant's brother  or  sister,  or  both  of  them,  died, 
leaving  children  dependent  on  friends  themselves 
poor.  Miss  Evans  at  once  offered  to  provide  cloth- 
ing and  school-fees  for  one  of  these,  a  chubby-faced 
little  girl  four  or  five  years  of  age.  Unexpectedly, 
however,  an  aunt  at  a  distance  proposed  to  adopt 
the  child.  I  recollect  taking  her  to  say  good-bye  to 
her  would-be  benefactress,  and  can  see  her  now 
standing  still  and  subdued  in  her  black  frock  and 
cape,  with  Miss  Evans  kneeling  down  by  her,  and 
saying,  after  giving  her  some  money,  "  Then  I  sup- 
pose there  is  nothing  else  we  can  do  for  her.  " 

My  husband's  mother,  who  was  a  member  of  the 
Society  of  Friends,  established,  with  the  help  of 


380  Appendix. 

her  daughters  and  a  few  others  interested,  an  Indus- 
trial Home  for  girls  about  the  age  of  fourteen.  It 
was  in  the  year  1843,  and  was,  therefore,  one  of 
the  first  institutions  of  the  kind  in  England.  The 
model  was  taken  from  something  of  the  same  order 
attempted  by  a  young  girl  in  France.  The  girls 
were,  as  far  as  practicable,  to  maintain  themselves, 
working  under  conditions  of  comfort  and  protection 
more  attainable  than  in  their  own  homes.  The 
idea  was  new ;  the  Home  could  not  be  started 
without  funds,  and  my  mother  undertook  to  collect 
for  it  in  her  own  neighbourhood.  In  a  letter  to 
me,  written  at  this  time,  she  tells  me  she  is  "  not 
doing  much  to  help  dear  Mrs.  Cash,"  there  being 
"  a  prejudice  against  the  scheme  ;  "  but  adds,  "  This 
morning  Miss  Evans  called,  and  brought  me  two 
guineas  from  her  father.  "  I  tell  of  this,  as  one 
among  many  indications  of  Miss  Evans's  ever- 
growing zeal  to  serve  humanity  in  a  broader  way, 
motived  as  she  felt  by  a  higher  aim  than  what  she 
termed  "  desire  to  save  one's  soul  by  making  up 
coarse  flannel  for  the  poor.  " 

In  these  broad  views  —  in  this  desire  to  bring 
her  less  advantaged  neighbours  nearer  to  her  own 
level,  to  meet  them  on  common  ground,  to  raise 
them  above  the  liability  to  eleemosynary  charity 
• — she  had  Mr.  Bray's  full  sympathy.  To  me  she 
dwelt  frequently  upon  his  genuine  benevolence, 
upon  his  ways  of  advancing  the  interests  of  the 
working-men,  as  being  in  her  judgment  wise  and 
good.  She  visited  periodically,  in  turn  with  Mrs. 
Bray,  myself,  and  a  few  others,  an  infant-school 
which  Mr.  Bray  had  helped  to  start ;  and  although 
this  sort  of  work  was  so  little  suited  to  her,  yet  so 
much  did  she  feel  the  duty  of  living  for  others, 


A'pipeiidix.  381 

especially  the  less  privileged,  that  one  morning  she 
came  to  Mrs.  Bray,  expressing  strongly  her  desire 
to  help  in  any  work  that  could  be  given  her.  The 
only  thing  that  could  be  thought  of  was  the  illus- 
tration of  some  lessons  in  Natural  History,  on 
sheets  of  cardboard,  needed  then  when  prints  of  the 
kind  were  not  to  be  procured  for  schools.  The 
class  of  animals  to  be  illustrated  by  Mrs.  Bray  on 
the  sheet  taken  by  Miss  Evans  was  the  "  Kodentiffi, " 
and  at  the  top  a  squirrel  was  to  figure,  the  which 
she  undertook  to  draw.  This  I  have  seen,  half  fin- 
ished, —  a  witness  to  the  willing  mind  ;  proof  that 
its  proper  work  lay  otherwhere.  Lectures  at  the 
Mechanics'  Institute  were  matters  of  great  interest 
to  Miss  Evans ;  and  I  remember  the  pleasure  given 
her  by  the  performance  of  the  music  of  "  Comus, " 
with  lecture  by  Professor  Taylor,  at  our  old  St. 
Mary's  Hall.  In  that  hall,  too,  we  heard  the  first 
lecture  on  total  abstinence  that  I  remember  to  have 
heard  in  Coventry,  though  of  "  Temperance  Socie- 
ties "  we  knew  something.  The  lecturer  was  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Spencer,  a  clergyman  at  Hinton  Charter- 
house, near  Bath,  and  uncle  of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer. 
Miss  Evans  was  present  at  the  lecture,  with  Mr. 
Bray,  who  told  me  afterwards  he  had  some  diffi- 
culty in  restraining  her  from  going  up,  as  soon  as 
the  lecture  was  over,  to  take  the  pledge,  he  thought 
without  due  consideration.  "  I  felt, "  she  said, 
speaking  to  me  afterwards  of  the  lecturer,  "  that  he 
had  got  hold  of  a  power  for  good  that  was  of  incal- 
culable worth. " 

I  need  scarcely  say  that  I  received,  along  with 
lessons  in  German,  some  "  rules  and  lessons  for 
life  "  from  Miss  Evans.  One  of  the  first  was  an 
injunction    to   be    accurate,  —  enforced   with    the 


382  Appendix. 

warning  that  the  tendency  is  to  grow  less  and  less 
so  as  we  get  older.  The  other  was,  tolerance. 
How  well  I  can  remember  the  remonstrance,  "  My 
dear  child,  the  great  lesson  of  life  is  tolerance. " 
In  the  proverb,  "  Live  and  let  live, "  she  saw  a 
principle  involved,  harder  to  act  upon,  she  would 
say,  than  the  maxims  of  benevolence,  —  I  think, 
because  bringing  less  credit  with  it. 

The  reading  of  dramas  and  romances  naturally 
gives  rise  to  discussion  of  their  main  theme.  In 
treating  of  love  and  marriage,  Miss  Evans's  feeling 
was  so  fine  as  to  satisfy  a  young  girl  in  her  teens, 
with  her  impossible  ideals.  The  conception  of  the 
union  of  two  persons  by  so  close  a  tie  as  marriage, 
without  a  previous  union  of  minds  as  well  as  hearts, 
was  to  her  dreadful.  "  How  terrible  it  must  be, " 
she  once  said  to  me,  "  to  find  one's  self  tied  to  a 
being  whose  limitations  you  could  see,  and  must 
know  were  such  as  to  prevent  your  ever  being 
understood !  "  She  thought  that  though  in  Eng- 
land marriages  were  not  professedly  "  arranges, " 
they  were  so  too  often  practically :  young  people 
being  brought  together,  and  receiving  intimations 
that  mutual  interest  was  desired  and  expected, 
were  apt  to  drift  into  connections  on  grounds  not 
strong  enough  for  the  wear  and  tear  of  life;  and 
this,  too,  among  the  middle  as  well  as  in  the 
higher  classes.  After  speaking  of  these  and  other 
facts,  of  how  things  were  and  would  be,  in  spite  of 
likelihood  to  the  contrary,  she  would  end  by  say- 
ing playfully,  "  Now  remember  I  tell  you  this, 
and  I  am  sixty !  " 

She  thought  the  stringency  of  laws  rendering  the 
marriage-tie  (at  that  date)  irrevocable,  practically 
worked  injuriously ;  the  effect  being  "  that  many 


Appendix.  383 

wives  took  far  less  pains  to  please  their  husbands 
in  behaviour  and  appearance,  because  they  knew 
their  own  position  to  be  invulnerable. "  And  at  a 
later  time  she  spoke  of  marriages  on  the  Continent, 
where  separations  did  not  necessarily  involve  dis- 
credit, as  being  very  frequently  far  happier. 

One  claim,  as  she  regarded  it,  from  equals  to 
each  other,  was  this,  the  right  to  hear  from  the 
aggrieved,  "  You  have  ill-treated  me ;  do  you  not 
see  your  conduct  is  not  fair,  looked  at  from  my 
side  ?  "  Such  frankness  would,  she  said,  bring 
about  good  understanding  better  than  reticent  en- 
durance. Her  own  filial  piety  was  sufficiently 
manifest ;  but  of  the  converse  obligation,  that  of 
the  claim  of  child  upon  parent,  she  was  wont  to 
speak  thus  strongly.  "  There  may  be, "  she  would 
say,  "  conduct  on  the  part  of  a  parent  which  should 
exonerate  his  child  from  further  obligation  to  him  ; 
but  there  cannot  be  action  conceivable  which  should 
absolve  the  parent  from  obligation  to  serve  his 
child,  seeing  that  for  that  child's  existence  he  is 
himself  responsible. "  I  did  not  at  the  time  see 
the  connection  between  this  view  and  the  change 
of  a  fundamental  nature  marked  by  Miss  Evans's 
earlier  contention  for  our  "  claim  on  God. "  The 
bearing  of  the  above  on  orthodox  religion  I  did  not 
see.  Some  time  ago,  however,  I  came  across  this 
reflection,  made  by  a  clergyman  of  the  Broad 
Church  school,  —  that  since  the  claims  of  children 
had,  in  the  plea  for  schools,  been  based  on  the 
responsibility  of  parents  towards  them,  a  higher 
principle  had  been  maintained  on  the  platform 
than  was  preached  from  the  pulpit,  as  the  basis  of 
the  popular  theology. 

In  my  previous  communication  in  the  "  Life,"  I 


384  Appendix. 

have  already  made  mention  of  Miss  Evans's  sym 
pathy  with  me  in  my  own  religious  difficulties ; 
and  my  obligations  to  her  were  deepened  by  her 
seconding  my  resolve  to  acknowledge  how  much  of 
the  traditional  belief  had  fallen  away  from  me, 
and  left  a  simpler  faith.  In  this  I  found  her  best 
help  when,  as  time  passed  on,  my  brother  saw  he 
could  not  conscientiously  continue  in  the  calling 
he  had  chosen.  As,  however,  his  heresies  were 
not  considered  fatal,  and  he  was  esteemed  by  the 
professors  and  students  of  his  college,  there  was 
for  some  time  hesitation.  In  this  predicament  I 
wrote  to  him  a  little  favouring  compromise.  My 
mother  also  wrote.  I  took  the  letters  to  Miss 
Evans  before  posting  them.  She  read  mine  first, 
with  no  remark,  and  then  began  my  mother's, 
reading  until  she  came  upon  these  words :  "  In 
the  meantime  let  me  entreat  you  not  to  utter  any 
sentiments,  either  in  the  pulpit  or  in  conversation, 
that  you  do  not  believe  to  be  strictly  true ;  "  on 
which  she  said,  turning  to  me,  "  Look,  this  is  the 
important  point,  what  your  mother  says  here,"  and 
I  immediately  put  my  own  letter  into  the  fire. 
"  What  are  you  doing  ?  "  she  quickly  said ;  and 
when  I  answered,  "  You  are  right,  —  my  mother's 
letter  is  to  the  point,  and  that  only  need  go, "  she 
nodded  assent,  and,  keeping  it,  sent  it  enclosed 
with  a  few  lines  from  herself. 

I  knew  what  I  had  done,  and  so  did  she :  the 
giving  up  of  the  ministry  to  a  young  man  without 
other  resources  was  no  light  matter,  and  as  I  rose 
to  go,  she  said,  "  These  are  the  tragedies  for  which 
the  world  cares  so  little,  but  which  are  so  much  to 
me." 

More  than  twenty  years   elapsed  before    I  had 


Appendix.  385 

again  the  privilege  of  seeing  George  Eliot,  and  that 
on  one  occasion  only,  after  her  final  settlement  in 
London.  It  touched  me  deeply  to  find  how  much 
she  had  retained  of  her  kind  interest  in  all  that 
concerned  me  and  mine,  and  I  remarked  on  this  to 
Mr.  Lewes,  who  came  to  the  door  with  my  daughter 
and  myself  at  parting.  "  Wonderful  sympathy,"  I 
said.  "  Is  it  not  ?  "  said  he ;  and  when  I  added, 
inquiringly,  "  The  power  lies  there  ?  "  "  Unques- 
tionably it  does, "  was  his  answer ;  "  she  forgets 
nothing  that  has  ever  come  within  the  curl  of  her 
eyelash  :  above  all,  she  forgets  no  one  who  has  ever 
spoken  to  her  one  kind  word. " 

VOL.  I.  —  25 


END   OF  VOL.    1. 


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T'Torks.   Georre  Eliot  ^s 
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